Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Bedhead
There is a warmth, a certain serenity
As if the star sign of Saturn alone should bring such peace
A carrier, a vessel to fill with echoes, a universe to populate
Dreamed up memories that oscillate among eons of beautiful visions
Soon to try to recollect these instants
Yet never again to truly trespass on those clouds
Not to instill that voice of endearment
Fearful of making the call, under the ominous threat of rejection
Instead to read the chapter on depression
Settle on a preference for melancholy
Hang her scented lightness of cloth on every resonant passage
Celebrate the star sign
That brought thought transference and ultimate joy
Wake up and smell the coffee
Shower, eat, drive, meet, return
To sit where the ether can carry the birdsong
Where effervescent passages, of time past, time present
Wander undisturbed, gentleness thus to be personified
a poem from the collection Into the Present Decade - Love with Droplets of Joy available by clicking on the link