Finding myself
who normally rejoices
in the darkness of winter,
never one to need anything to come alive
on my behalf,
begging for Spring
the hope of Seasons.
Quiet & Alive
I’m learning something about the trees in January,
So quiet, yet so alive.
a million tiny movements, imperceptible but important.
Acceptance in all stages,
Purpose, no matter how small.
Pretending
Pretending I was
Across the sky
Riding clouds of thunder
Till the weight of collected burdens
Dropped me.
And I on the ground,
No longer light
But clinging wet and heavy to the earth
Till time separated me and
I was light Enough
to rise and pretend again.
Pardon
Washington State has tulips on the brain this month. I know, I know. "Florals? For Spring? Groundbreaking." BUT to keep things interesting, I’ll also leave you with a snippet of Emerson’s Hamatraya. One particular line is pulled out of context and printed on many a mass-produced garden sign, while the rest of the poem is, in fact, quite dark. I recommend you read the entire thing!
“..Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds:
And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough.
Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys
Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs;
Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet
Clear of the grave..”