I went visiting the willows just before twilight fell ... the Earth free of Her tomb tent mask at last ... I am able to walk on now past season's fawny grass, still clinging to how I felt about you even then ... my boots fondly smiling back at me as if they found a purposeful shared trail I had left off of all too suddenly, when the ice bound me in ... that it could mean something more than I had simply walked this way before ... The slight descent of the hill led to the muddy water and the broken willows' bank edge home ... the hungry mouse had lain bare the inner white fleshy meat of the wood given way from her Winter's hunger ... the crust of old bark now brightening with spring green smiles of twiggy dreams and sprouting prospects lying elsewhere along the still waking branches ... The phantom rose buds which had gathered to tinge the vanishing sky with their pink promises to come fell invisibly melting into the lake's freshly thawed moist mirror ... it has only just begun to bloom with the first signs of green algae turned the hinted kisses of a Maxfield Parrish illumination ... now muted mauve and dusty roses not unlike pictures my Grandma Thomas would save from an old birthday card taped to her living room wall, an oddness I am proud to continue of her's ... I recall when I was two, a visit, the room alive with cards, flowers on the dining room archway like a float to a child ... she's in my heart in the way these pinks rapture into blazing scarlet if I can stand still long enough ... if I let them come to me ... fill me ... fill you ... I wonder, at times, if you perhaps, have lit a candle or stoked the fire ... am I seeing your glow also ? I know you glow ... I feel you ! ... I am old fashioned, despite what one might think, people don't connect like this anymore ... seems we are all evolving past this sort of Oneness to reach Oneness ... to find our "in the end all you have is yourself~ness" ... It's a shame really ... for none of us can do it alone ... I can't write this without the little mouse ... perhaps, the same one I helped out of the dog food sack the other night when she was trapped ... put my hand down and she hopped on for a ride outside, looking back, trusting ... With the Spring warmth the catfish will be laying eggs soon ... their beds there at the edge of the hazel brush and willow ... the water is shallow ... the mud deep ... they build their hap hazard honeycomb maze spawn cities of grey clay houses ... it is in this Oneness the Sunshine is held ... pocket glisten egg mounds reminding us what Summer is for ... We should all have a human summer ... let it run through us ... liquid spirit fire solar flares awakening who we know ourselves to be.
from I Vowed to Dig Darkly© 2014 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved