Mapping the voids of a phosphorescent microscopic oasis
Touching the talisman of the chemist mind…
Interior soft blue
The unshattered chandelier before…
The carbon choke misery
In the end of the century,
bees will seek the flame
As lava once flowed out of lunar rage
Smothered terra and blacken ash…
Runes of the meaning of grace
The trees will broadcast our dreams,
Of sobs muffled by the blaze
As the dusty feet of bees,
Are retired whispers in the torrid breeze
those dusty feet of bees is at the same time delicate and powerful – this is such an amazing tapestry of the earth reaching a crescendo
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Thank you! You always write the most beautiful comments.
So many delicate things are becoming lost to this world. But we must have ends for new beginnings.
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you are welcome, your poetry brings out that side of me Naomi. and this one in particular as I have been having some deep thoughts about the fragility of our earth recently. indeed I am all for new beginnings though a little afraid of how that end will present itself. you have a way of transmuting the simple into something quite extraordinary
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Thanks Gina! Just my intuitive side taking the lead. Iβm not sure if there is ever a true ending to all.
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your intuition may carry a lot of truth you are right we never do know, but we must follow that which prompts our heart
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Some very surreal landscapes, and i love the line ‘The trees will broadcast our dreams,’…reminds me how you can see the trauma of the planet in the trunk rings. There is such power and intensity in this peace, perhaps a subconscious screaming of frustration. …hopefully this is your return to more posts, more often….you’ve been missed!
Great work.
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Thank you! Yes I love that line too. The trees have memories too!
Yeah Iβm trying to make a slow comeback….just so hard to do and be everything I want in this life π And the antidepressants sometimes make me think less creative/sad. Lol
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Can imagine, but they force you to persevere and overcome…lending to such art. I’m eagerly awaiting more π
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