A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
Daily Listening Before eyes open, I close tighter, hold on harder. Just one glimpse at just the right moment sends me on my way. Have to be open to it, wherever, The day Mirrors reflect my eyes, redder or white, contrast blue, deepening hue. Sunlight bright could dive into you, on brown-gold grain. Glint crush sinks deep beneath our summer weight. Decisions were made, as perpetual mornings remind. When lids unseal, I have to be open to it, cast away fright of another night endured alone. Too much fabric gathers from fists clenched tight. Questions of 'where were you' echo from a fool. I’d be happy to see you remove those heels at the threshold. But I wasn’t open to it, before pavement echoed final regret. A fool clears orbs, shutters with too much might, windows clasp tight. This room dries remaining sight. I should've been open to it, let the shower cleanse a scent down drain to heaven or hell? I can be open to it, if given enough time, wash pain from memory sublime. For now, rock in this corner, stare at shadows slow motion. Thick drapes go to work until night arrives, anew, like hope. 7.12.22 10.5.22 edited, maybe too much. We'll see When I reread this now I’m reminded of how one word inspires another word as the poem builds, continuing downstream a page. I’m reminded that I have to keep my eyes on the intended destination, but be open to any insight revealing along the way, because they can inform even more than just the initial impulse to write a thing down. For all I know, some part of my subconscious tries to be heard in this poetic forum, yearning to be beautiful, worthy of love, validation. With fullest meaning properly projected, perhaps consumable, accessible to someone else who can relate, a connection forms that I cannot get in personally, but hopefully in a blog life. |