The whispering of wings, waiting to spread
I want to be like the birds and cut a path through the sky and the earth
what has never
Existed
does now.
I want to be the sharp, ringing realization of the trees
when they see me
The scent of pine in a cold breeze.
I want to be the
Circle
Oange mushroom clouds in the sky
I want to be like the birds and
Leap and
slide and
Make my way
up,
all the way up,
to the
Top
me too
ReplyDeleteThis is an old poem I wrote that your poem reminded me of:
ReplyDeletesea roots
I wish to build a home where water meets land.
to sink my roots like a great cord of beach grass
and bend with the winds. I will dig deep into
the sand and roof my ponderous abode with
elemental shingle, sea-worn smooth. fiddler
crabs will scamper topside like gentle rain, great
waves will fall in threes, gulls will chuckle and chide,
and the cormorant will break free of ocean’s
grasp and flap in the joyous winds, heaven-bound.
and when clouds roll in from sea I will be bathed
in thick swathes of funereal cloth, and near
dunes will recede into grayness, the thunder
of breakers will be mute, and I will be lost
to industries of man, alone in the earth.
Lots of love and happy holidays,
Nick
That is an amazing poem. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteHappy holidays!
-Ava ☺♥♫