THE MOMENT BEFORE JANET ARRIVED
I've never been comfortable
in my own skin, not ever really.
But today,
I sat quiet and still
well planted and preserved
amidst mid-winter Salesian square.
The air was crisp and cold,
that day in February.
Silence cracked the window vein,
depleted of fresh oxygen
and new blood.
Eyes agaze, weathering winds
trading solemn secrets
by young saplings and the older
white oak trees,
leaned into wisdom carefully.
Her leaves, round and pointed
running green texture and charm
gently crackling mind,
breaking through open-ended
divination.
A freedom given to sunlit palms
sliding behind lowering lids
of days past.
It's calm in here.
In and behind the eyes,
in the wake of darkness-
Insight lays,
polished and poised.
Those memories,
Echo the ExclamaTory Cries
of Crows!
Parting thin layers of passing clouds
to a stream of slippery green frogs
Buried...
...Buried
Buried...
Just under; white, whistling winds,
whispering, wild, wonderful,
wonders, whirling wills while,
weaving witty wiles, willingly-
A soft and plush comfort,
but...
Are we ever really that comfortable?
- Tiny Poet, The Moment Before Janet Arrived, 2020
in my own skin, not ever really.
But today,
I sat quiet and still
well planted and preserved
amidst mid-winter Salesian square.
The air was crisp and cold,
that day in February.
Silence cracked the window vein,
depleted of fresh oxygen
and new blood.
Eyes agaze, weathering winds
trading solemn secrets
by young saplings and the older
white oak trees,
leaned into wisdom carefully.
Her leaves, round and pointed
running green texture and charm
gently crackling mind,
breaking through open-ended
divination.
A freedom given to sunlit palms
sliding behind lowering lids
of days past.
It's calm in here.
In and behind the eyes,
in the wake of darkness-
Insight lays,
polished and poised.
Those memories,
Echo the ExclamaTory Cries
of Crows!
Parting thin layers of passing clouds
to a stream of slippery green frogs
Buried...
...Buried
Buried...
Just under; white, whistling winds,
whispering, wild, wonderful,
wonders, whirling wills while,
weaving witty wiles, willingly-
A soft and plush comfort,
but...
Are we ever really that comfortable?
- Tiny Poet, The Moment Before Janet Arrived, 2020