The stories we tell ourselves ...
sharp black narrative line
inked in
jangly half-truths
clothes-pinned to the high-wire
alongside scars carved by my own hand
raised & tender as a scarlet finch's wing
deep in the shadowed alchemy
of stories drunk on the vapor of belied Chiron
verdant trust lost in the Grimm forest
of
shame & frosted glass-full
surprise :
unwelcome as a forecast of fire-ants
The stories we tell ourselves ...
hiding without seeking
come out, come out wherever you are!
sun welts the foreign corners of ice & diamonds
light reflects, wind stirs
something lingers
something makes itself felt
Spring
sharp black narrative line
inked in
jangly half-truths
clothes-pinned to the high-wire
alongside scars carved by my own hand
raised & tender as a scarlet finch's wing
deep in the shadowed alchemy
of stories drunk on the vapor of belied Chiron
verdant trust lost in the Grimm forest
of
shame & frosted glass-full
surprise :
unwelcome as a forecast of fire-ants
The stories we tell ourselves ...
hiding without seeking
come out, come out wherever you are!
sun welts the foreign corners of ice & diamonds
light reflects, wind stirs
something lingers
something makes itself felt
Spring
a particle knowing
detected only by this barely detectable fragrance
of
cherry-blossom buds
The stories we tell ourselves ...
straighten the line
don't bleed out
follow the soul curve
bend
and
lean into surrender
of
cherry-blossom buds
The stories we tell ourselves ...
straighten the line
don't bleed out
follow the soul curve
bend
and
lean into surrender
Sometimes it's hard to follow the soul path when living in a world that doesn't respect it. But you are right~ beautifully right! Spring is here.
ReplyDeleteNiamh … ❀
Delete