My poetry, etc. ||
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves." Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
Immobilized by awe, She stands in the foothills As the distant wildfire haze settles Into the twisting oaks' golden branches. Beams of solidified sunlight touch That aching part of her She usually shields like a newborn-- Cradling it and preventing its exposure To her burning world.
How did you end up here? Out in the middle of this river Alone in your little wooden canoe Watching ethereal mist rise To shroud your world In the haltingly beautiful But cold fog of the forbidden And precarious future. You've been on this river for a lifetime. Paddling with all your might Through the lethal rapids, Steering your bow with sober resilience To rest in the deep green pool Of hard-earned sanctuary. You sacrificed passion-- You put your youth behind you For calm water and clear skies, An escape from ghostly mist And white-crested turbulence And all the fallen branches that For so long marred your path. But you ignored all that, And left in the early morning Forgetting your shoes, Carrying every burden Of your uncharted future Onto the silver-curtained river And its inexorable violent current.
So, I started a poetry diary in November because I had a blank journal...really inspiring reason, right? I am taking a stab at this poetry thing, and here is one I wrote recently: Clatter and Clutter Night shrouds my window paper clutters my desk and I cling to a concept of you not finished yet My mind begins to race and I can't move beyond the monotonous pulse of that long-forgotten song Which echoed in my ears and left an imprint so deep that I can't comprehend or contain all you teach So put corks in my ears and a veil over my eyes but I'll still never calm the commotion inside
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