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Departure
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Button There it lies
beyond the thickness of the trees
what is embedded, in the moss
a vertical glacier of vapors
rising from the ground
leaving tiny signatures
of whispers on the barks
a thousand years worth of conversations
all unheard until the spark
of electric dust rises from the ground
You can smell it
the sweet nectarine,
the crowded soil
unfurling into the air
the beginning of a love affair
unspoiled, tethered loosely
into the north wind, albeit
free
When I touch the ground
the face of the sky turns grey
Not weeping, but the volume turned down
Reachable, but only with the fingertips,
kissing the soft beings of the leaves,
the underside, feeling different and tough,
but alive
nonetheless
When I stomp the ground
I cry.
But, not weeping.
Not weeping.
So many monumental lines
So many monumental lines thunder in this sublime journey. The emotion is palpable, and the vehicle for that emotion is a clean, natural, startling work of art. I'm loving how you animated leaves and reminded us of unseen wonders in the "crowded soil" and showed us your sorrow when "the face of the sky" turned "grey" upon touching the ground.
An astonishing expression.
Someday, I would count myself
Someday, I would count myself a fortunate soul to be able to capture a thing as you do.
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.
response
''embedded, in the moss
a vertical glacier of vapors
rising from the ground
leaving tiny signatures
of whispers on the barks'
unique lovely a beautiful metaphor
"...the soft beings of the leaves"
The phrase blew me away. Encore!
.
Lady A