Friday, 1 June 2012

a fist full of flowers and sap-sticky fingers

a fist full of flowers and leaves and sap-sticky fingers. wondering when the sky will break it's clouds like a dragon's backbone. shadow maker, the sun pours her amber light and the river glitters dreaming of journeys. hearing nothing but the birds, my own footsteps like devotional vibrations, and the language of the trees im trying so hard to learn.

4 comments:

v said...

i have had the pleasure of seeing your fist full of flowers so i get images while reading your beautiful words here now...

**

Observer

By Naomi Shihab Nye

I watch how other things travel

to get an idea how I might move.

A cloud sweeps by silently,

gathering other clouds.

A doodlebug curls in his effort to get there.

A horse snorts before stepping forward.

A caterpillar inches across the kitchen floor.

When I carry him outside on a leaf,

I imagine someone doing that to me.

Would I scream?

In the heart of the day

nothing moves.

No one is going anywhere

or coming back.

The blue glass on the table

lets light pass through.

Something shines

but nothing moves.

I watch that too.

demie said...

wonderful words again dear friend, wonderfuly written

Nichole said...

Thank you thank you thank you for your words.

Wingfall at dusk said...

Something so deep and wonderful is happening to you