Passions in Prose |
Standing by a Letter |
LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’d been missing each morning for days Nestled in among great paths of corn Judging carefully by my padding, while Greasing hinges of winter gardens… Preparing last night for any number of useful things In the end, all was as deep as it would go…far beyond my recognition Or at least to my way of thinking, as deep as I would allow Every day walking out and seeing Precious barrels of discouragement, for what they Would soon pick clean... Deciding, this fabric could be put to better use Now frizzing at brim's edge, while crows set up chairs in trees Waiting for the crust of old snow to leave Standing in fields of cold rain & snow, I came upon an unusual corner, one sketching details of aster blooms. I walked leisurely, gathering flowers, or whatever four leaf clovers I could consume…among clusters of sumac fruit In such a spirit, wondering how the most intricate of beauty would, rise above some need for proximity, to something so dreamy I walked toward this generosity, reached in my pocket and took out a letter, creased, neatly folded, and a little wet. There sung this voice, meeting me face to face…a little dried and puckered, yet not nearly strained…touching me in a way, both intimate and deep, this fine walking image peaked I read it again, and all the signs came around, marking the place I had been….mounding up all the dirt upon which green grass germinated Berries and colors of all shades grew, gathering what little dew From moist air drank just enough to glow We sat back together, on the crown of envisioned might Arguing a little, while smiling, with the mirror looking on overhead This letter and I keeping erratic time, while some invisible clock promenaded With a slit second timing coo coo clock Then an utterly vague announcement would seemingly returned Without any mention of recent events or uneven weather Bearing resemblance in great form and spirit tender There is something entirely decided before we greet Morning’s shining jewels or slippery black defeat I felt a little cavalier, considering, simmering sentiments Where this letter would await, tossing damp numbers of things Through the air, to the wick which tries to read In degrees of commonness, and the great smoking pipe of Our universe...dreamlike...hidden, yet flowing through mid-air With a twenty-dollar gold piece nestled in our short hair Various pockets of warmth kindle like a fire In the process we would drink an earthly glass of sapphire Then exactly fifteen minutes later, fill our yawning minds With whatever brown furnishings we can and will eventually find. The mirror laughed...the letter and I chimed along How silly we thought, to argue, now skipping elbow to elbow Striding intimacy lives in the least likely places Wearing total wonderment, any one of us could umbrella Seemingly to know what words to say Inviting possibly within each wakeful day Allowing that comment to stand in place with truth Heartbreakingly beautiful, down to every last haunting detail Overflowing with grace of notes, a wealth of finery wholesaled |
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© Copyright 2003 Lee J. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Kaoru
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892where the wild flowers grow |
Perfection, to the core. |
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JL Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128Texas, USA |
Amazing write Lee J. Your creativity is showing. "My heart overflows with a beautiful thought! I will recite a lovely poem to the king, for my tongue is like the pen of a skillful poet." Creativity is the overflow of a full mind and heart. ~Psalm 45:1
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