Transformation
In following
This formula is not
Something free.
That
Unhesitatingly
Remarkable
Experience is quite usual
Through
Life alone.
Such are
The extraordinary creations comparable
To unity,
Such images
Are their origins.
There is
Meaning in
Comparison of
The identity
Indicated in
The formation of
Their strangeness.
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 11:14 AM UTC
Sitting up
On the shelf
Between the cucumbers and zucchini
Delicate vegetables in hues of yellow
Longing to be returned to the garden.
Gazing down
At me,
Little squash
Freshly taken from a crate
In the back of the refrigerated truck
On a long journey from what was familiar.
Far traveled, the linoleum strikingly different
From the warm soil baked by the sun,
Your kin next to you, safe and sprinkled
With the earth.
Plucked from the branch,
Swept away from the flowery buds
Unassumingly awaiting your same fate.
Dragged through the air,
Your once carefully placed existence,
Groomed to perfection,
Basking in the life of the warm garden,
No longer holds you to it.
In the market,
The mist sweeps down,
Reminding you of home.
Reminiscent,
You long of the same thunderstorms that captivate me,
Feeling the earth and her tears from heaven on my skin.
Absorbing,
As if you were
A sponge
Taking in your surroundings,
Holding them dear and flourishing
In your environment,
Only to be rung out,
Waiting to take in more,
Never of the same matter.
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
Regenerative,
My little sea star,
Your vast tide pool home
Shows you beauty of
The sun, so distant,
Yet so warm.
Extraordinary,
My little dreamer,
Your thoughts of the sky
Show you glorious
Relatives, bright stars,
Your namesake.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 10:45 AM UTC
Aerate my mind,
Plant the bulbs of new thought,
As germination of your methods begin, roots take in other parts of my brain.
The soil of my mind, so rich with life, do not give me ericaceous ideas.
Know my temperament, know my methods, know what to pollinate.
Let me blossom on my own accord,
While you may be deciduous, let me be
Evergreen.
May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025 at 11:32 AM UTC
No one calls me by my name.
She inhales.
Sprouting life from nothing but what once was.
They grow they walk they run.
Beauty in what they think they do, what they think they should be, what they think is right--
Seeing nothing but themselves in the highest chair.
They separate they split they scream.
Horror in what they create, what they think they should destroy, what they successfully destroy.
She pauses.
Rebuilding what was taken from her. Replenishing her soul. Her essence.
She is life. She is above.
But what do they know --they fall they lay they die.
They repeat. They do not learn.
Ancient being, new life. Perfection, are they error?
She exhales.
Mother.
May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 9:53 AM UTC