Tag: limb

Ghost Path (day 3011)

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I want to believe that I’m the ghost
Walking through the woods;
One small cackle,
A broken branch,
An index of places been before.
I collapse
And am the definition of un-sturdy
For my limbs are limp,
My eyes deep blue pale,
My skin, the colour of
Ten thousand sins
Washed with a rectangular bar of soap,
And hair touching my shoulders
That feels like spider webs
Through a barely audible path.

To Know (day 2756)

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I’d like to know what your skin feels like
Wrapped so close against mine,
A hide so eager for my sense of skin
Gently pulling as a great test.
Oh, to see what sensual emotions
Ripple to each sensitive limb!
Uncontrolled discovery
Warms a fire within.
I’d like to know your skin
So each evening I lay beside
In awe I’d fall asleep amidst
It’s radiant pulsing from thy being.
Holy sense I have to find!
What could be life there by your side!

Spruce Story (day 2247)

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The old spruce and I sat silently
We shared secrets unspoken
We shared ground softly packed
I looked up and counted to one hundred
Each branch I gave a name
Each name remembered its origin
In the world of seven valleys
I heard ravens nesting
Squirrels chasing
And I felt each limb slowly shake
Watching each needle slowly fall
Tumbling to the palm of my hand
Which rebirthed my blessings
In each moment of doubt
Until I stood where the spruce had stood
And I inhaled deeply as the spruce had inhaled
And I listened as the spruce had listened
And I swayed as the spruce had swayed
Until the seven valleys became my valleys
And my story remained so.

Treasure Chest (day 2131)

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Rambling when I remembered to stop
A limb broken and I heard it drop
Methodically stripping naked
A consciously wrapped envelope
Placed at the trunk of a mighty old oak
Who waved back and forth
Silly gamblers marching about
To the tune of engines
Sputtering confusion
And lay raindrops upon folded corners
Which shall leak kava upon this ancient floor
Upon which I rest upon
To humbly assess the treasure chest.

Alone Can Be (day 1934)

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How alone can alone be
When tapping at my window comes
A shadow with two fingers saying
Come out with me to sing and play.
Alone these moments of my heart
Listen like an alert lark
Shaken with a little limb
That has one leaf still hanging on.
And ever in my mind, alone,
I find a whisper calmly saying
You’re ok now, you’re home with me,
Alone here as alone can be.

Hologram (day 1561)

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I learned my anxiety is a hologram.
I felt heavy steps upon late sleeps
That woke me up into darkness.
I lunged deeper into an evil battle
Spoken in tears and whispers,
Draining out sweat and
Tearing my limbs, one by one.
I shuffled my restlessness
To steal my ‘buts’ and ‘nos’
From every word I heard this voice speak
Until even I had lost this anxious feeling,
Leaving me reflecting previous states
Of a captured image,
Shifting from frame to frame.

The Glen (day 1095)

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In the glen; wild roving stallion,
I paused to stretch my limbs.
And when dismounting my hairy beast
A chorus of chick-a-dees sang to me.
To listen intently I spread my wings,
Laid myself low, enjoyed with the breeze
And over my head did fly all at once
One hundred black sparrows gathering their young.
Where butterflies fell over lazily my outstretched wings
And careless little flies found my warm skin.
And I on my back with my eyes to the sky
Watched clouds float on by; lazy summer breeze.
Long grass swayed as the warm sun spied between
Kentucky Blue, Fennel, and Orchard
Which my stallion munch on unceasingly,
“Chompity chompity chompity chomp.”
A soothing repetition with each grass pull; roots.
Up again, off again. Forward on was I!
A creek to be over! A fence to be had!
This glen of that glen, and fields in between
A small pond, a homestead, a row of red oaks.
Then after the huckelberries there’s a lane off ahead,
Then I’ll be home, my family’s ol’ stead.