the sky misses its birds
the Earth misses starlight
we are mostly oblivious
what does the moon think,
looking down?
that’s a silly question
the moon continues to beam
showing us that our
reflection is
unconditional.
C.Savage 10.5.15
the sky misses its birds
the Earth misses starlight
we are mostly oblivious
what does the moon think,
looking down?
that’s a silly question
the moon continues to beam
showing us that our
reflection is
unconditional.
C.Savage 10.5.15
Sunflowers can jut out many blossoms per stalk.
I am amazed.
Yellows grown to greet me at my doorstep.
I have eyes
my eyes grow
wide and
tear-filled and
joyful
I can grow my own tears
I have grown my own tears of
hopefulness and delight
and it was easy
I didn’t do anything but
pick a place
that would suit
ME.
Here, grow, here, you, grow here, for my pleasure, because I love myself.
I plant you I look at you with wonder I wait and watch the leaves grow broad, the
stalks grow thick enough
like a neck
to support a head, I watch
as buds begin to pucker out
furry—I didn’t realize
furrier than I would have thought
little hairs spine-ing, pokey, what are they for.
I take many pictures, capture the little spider-looking brown-purple hairy budlets
that slowly grow leaves of their own and keep going
developing into close-fisted structures, clenched against bloom
ugh, the waiting, they seem to say
the unfurling seems difficult, like wetted chicks pushing from egg, or
petal-pupae,
they look sticky, until they dry themselves,
butterfly-from-chrysalis
in the sun.
And now I see them,
every day,
they greet me as I cross
over my threshold
they smile down on me
these beings I have given place
to radiate
life.
7.15 xoc