03-09-2016, 02:57 AM
I wrote this several months ago, and I'm not entirely sure if there's anything to salvage of it. I've scrapped and redone the last stanza a few times, changed and rearranged in places, only to be more frustrated than contented.
(Bloomer)
Light of night spills over evergreen
and into me;
silver strands swirl beneath my skin.
A lunar hum speaks to me
in dreams now,
in visions of what’s always been.
Mapping patterns into my mind,
behind my eyes,
and beneath the tides.
I reach for her now in the night,
as leaves of great blooming things
turn towards the sun of meadows bright.
As by dark’s descent, my petals unfold
giving way to her heavy pull,
the light of her; her steady glow.
(Bloomer)
Light of night spills over evergreen
and into me;
silver strands swirl beneath my skin.
A lunar hum speaks to me
in dreams now,
in visions of what’s always been.
Mapping patterns into my mind,
behind my eyes,
and beneath the tides.
I reach for her now in the night,
as leaves of great blooming things
turn towards the sun of meadows bright.
As by dark’s descent, my petals unfold
giving way to her heavy pull,
the light of her; her steady glow.