And now,
after winter’s spite left
the sun rung white,
it begins:
the stirring of survival
under sleep, where the waters
meet and fold into gold-
lipped petals; the buds of blossoms,
strung illusive as dovetails; the
malachite movement skyward –
the earth-sung pulse
of spring.
And I, too,
am crowned cornflower
blue when I speak
in the mother tongue,
grasping the wish-
bone split into seeds that
feathered plumes untie -
so that each breath, godlike,
unfurls worlds into honeyed airthat melt into the cloud-cloven sky.
after winter’s spite left
the sun rung white,
it begins:
the stirring of survival
under sleep, where the waters
meet and fold into gold-
lipped petals; the buds of blossoms,
strung illusive as dovetails; the
malachite movement skyward –
the earth-sung pulse
of spring.
And I, too,
am crowned cornflower
blue when I speak
in the mother tongue,
grasping the wish-
bone split into seeds that
feathered plumes untie -
so that each breath, godlike,
unfurls worlds into honeyed airthat melt into the cloud-cloven sky.
* * *
I've been waiting for days for the inspiration for this to strike me, and it finally did!
My entry for devLIT's contest themed New Beginnings.
Wish me luck!
Oh, and some excellent news! You know my visual poem Vox Vitalis? Well, I placed third in the competition I entered it into, and got an honourable mention! Yay!
My entry for devLIT's contest themed New Beginnings.
Wish me luck!
Oh, and some excellent news! You know my visual poem Vox Vitalis? Well, I placed third in the competition I entered it into, and got an honourable mention! Yay!
Oooh, I love this :) A really original way of looking at a much-explored theme in a new light. And well done on getting third place *applauds* :D
ReplyDeletexxx
Yay, thank you Grace m'dear! I was worried about it being a bit too cliché, but hopefully I approached it in an original enough way to make it acceptable!
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks! *bows to applause* :D
xxx