NaPoWriMo 1
Ugh. One down, 29 to go!
Thaw
How excited everything is to live
after so many long, cold months.
Even the crocuses begin the surface ascent,
the stems finding their pitch against a stiff April wind
while the birds sing their deliberate song for no one,
not even the world with all of its exaggerated beauty.
They are as much the notes not sung
as the ones that are. Let them praise only themselves,
and if the crocuses take credit, so be it.
Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.
Thaw
How excited everything is to live
after so many long, cold months.
Even the crocuses begin the surface ascent,
the stems finding their pitch against a stiff April wind
while the birds sing their deliberate song for no one,
not even the world with all of its exaggerated beauty.
They are as much the notes not sung
as the ones that are. Let them praise only themselves,
and if the crocuses take credit, so be it.
Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.
Comments
now on my list of lines i wish i'd written...
peace.
Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.
it makes me sop up the whole poem like i am dipping my biscuit in gravy... enjoying the entire journey....
sorry i have been mia. will do better with reading and posting comments regularly.
peace and poetry, ananda
Remarkably, I'll be by regularly in April.