Together from dawn,
deep diving into the world:
symbiotic minds.
Tag: human
As seen through a round tank of water
Fill up the glass tanks, wear them on ours heads like giant fish bowls. If we spill any, we lose our worth and have to crawl on the floor with those dressed in rags, furiously mopping up after others and trying to fill our bowls once more.
The rags disintegrate, we are naked and no no-one cares. We are filthy and no one cares. We are hungry and no one cares. We have brains and no one cares. We have no glass tanks and everyone stares.
Your legs are crossed, a solid base
to ponder the long hours we spend apart,
seeking a way to change the shape
of what the timelines hold.
You watch the mountains change their caps,
the saplings grow wider,
see the decay of walls
and erection of new ones.
Eyes stare back at you,
weary, withered, hopeful.
They think you have the answer.
They think your shoulders are right to take the weight.
Inside, you are crumbling.
Inside, the water is building,
pushing ever against the dam.
The clock’s ticking is incessant.
One day you will break,
and they will accept how human you are.
Flooding everyone with the rawness.
By then, I will return,
and mend the hurts leaching you away.
Oracle of Ages
The trees always smiled when I entered the forest.
I bet you think that’s
odd.
Trees can’t smile.
But they can;
look closely.
With their slight shimmering
of branches,
they always asked why it was so long
between
visits.
I would reply the same way each time.
‘So I may never take this peace
and solace for granted.
It is easy for moments like this
to go unappreciated
until the time we can share them
no more.’
Now, trees are ageless,
pensive beings,
who see much loss in their lifetimes.
Yet no matter how they try,
the fleeting, finicky
minds of humans
are quite beyond them.
All the council they gave was, ‘Surely
the wonder of a moment
pales beside the wonder of an age?’
Feline Judgement
Her tail flicks as she saunters past,
nose aloft and green eyes
avoiding my gaze.
The delicate scent of catnip
I purposefully misted on her bedding
gets only a single sniff,
and the square fishy treats
no more than a cautionary lick.
I suppose that’s all I deserve,
having been away
for two whole days.
Times
You can lean
against many things in life.
The sturdy and immoving wall;
Ideas which stretch across lifetimes, continents, cultures;
Friends who were once strangers.
And then
there are those photographs
of diferent times,
times we took for granted
And times we thought
were hard before we knew
what that realĺy meant.
Dust and dreams
Staying alive as a whole person
when we are all made
of glowing particles of expression
straining
to break free
is quite a wonder, really.
All these dreams, all these thoughts
of bounding off into the depths of
of what?
The image in my head
is a great plain of grasses, rivers,
books, wildlife;
everything I love.
But that is not the depths of anything.
It’s only little me.
Washing day
As the books topple into the river
It’s not my fault.
The paper soaks up infected waters
It’s not my fault.
Words bleed away with unheard cries
It’s not my fault.
Hands clutch at mushy remnants, already
forgetting what they’ve lost.
