¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
I felt the rain coming.
A persistent wind
took swing
after swing
at my lashes
leaving behind
the occasional
hint of mist
(just on the tips).
In that moment there,
through then-rosy cheeks,
I began to experience
an unfelt appreciation
for something
I couldn't quite
put into words.
I felt a feeling
of sheer delight—
a feeling of comfort
and of good measure.
In that very moment there,
as I looked up
beyond the clouds
that now eclipsed
what no one else could see,
I felt peace.
I could hear, faintly,
the chilling rasp
of the far-off winds
that approached me.
Though I felt my body,
weak and frail,
I felt my soul
digging for truth,
steadily unearthing
something abstract
and nameless.
Reality then made
a swift pass
over my eyes.
I stood there
now galvanized,
though it all
left me feeling
a bit faint.
A surge
of blood rushed
to my head
like waters
through the cleaving
of a river dam.
I looked down
to see that I stood
on a spot of bare dirt
where the centipede grass
dared not grow.
My fleeting bewilderment
streaked lightly across
what I saw there.
The feeling
in that moment
had become a vapor,
which quickly escaped
the purgatory
into which
it was invoked.
I found myself
back home,
and though I was not
fully satisfied,
I smiled.
The cold rain
now covered my hands;
my wet fingers
were like bait
to the breeze.
I slid them
in the pockets
of my black leather jacket
as my smile
quickly turned to
‘brrr’
and a sudden
uncontrollable shiver.
“Was that it?"
I turned about
and hurled
a fervent wish
across that fluid sea
of sod grass.
I heaved
an unwearied sigh
as I then fell back
on the tin siding
of the wall
behind me.
I looked down
at my feet again.
One of my shoes
was untied;
its left lace
did lie atop
a muddy graze
upon the ground.
I looked up
and stared off
into the void
above the horizon.
I listened
to the sound
of the rain,
still so eager
to fall lightly
on the centipede.
I listened
to the sound
of the wind,
still so resentful
of restriction.
I listen
to the sound
of the automatons
that patiently
raze the forest
not too far
from where
I stand.
I wonder
what I could say.
The words
come to me:
"*Thus
abounds
the nature
of wolves!*"
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
I felt the rain coming.
A persistent wind
took swing
after swing
at my lashes
leaving behind
the occasional
hint of mist
(just on the tips).
In that moment there,
through then-rosy cheeks,
I began to experience
an unfelt appreciation
for something
I couldn't quite
put into words.
I felt a feeling
of sheer delight—
a feeling of comfort
and of good measure.
In that very moment there,
as I looked up
beyond the clouds
that now eclipsed
what no one else could see,
I felt peace.
I could hear, faintly,
the chilling rasp
of the far-off winds
that approached me.
Though I felt my body,
weak and frail,
I felt my soul
digging for truth,
steadily unearthing
something abstract
and nameless.
Reality then made
a swift pass
over my eyes.
I stood there
now galvanized,
though it all
left me feeling
a bit faint.
A surge
of blood rushed
to my head
like waters
through the cleaving
of a river dam.
I looked down
to see that I stood
on a spot of bare dirt
where the centipede grass
dared not grow.
My fleeting bewilderment
streaked lightly across
what I saw there.
The feeling
in that moment
had become a vapor,
which quickly escaped
the purgatory
into which
it was invoked.
I found myself
back home,
and though I was not
fully satisfied,
I smiled.
The cold rain
now covered my hands;
my wet fingers
were like bait
to the breeze.
I slid them
in the pockets
of my black leather jacket
as my smile
quickly turned to
‘brrr’
and a sudden
uncontrollable shiver.
“Was that it?"
I turned about
and hurled
a fervent wish
across that fluid sea
of sod grass.
I heaved
an unwearied sigh
as I then fell back
on the tin siding
of the wall
behind me.
I looked down
at my feet again.
One of my shoes
was untied;
its left lace
did lie atop
a muddy graze
upon the ground.
I looked up
and stared off
into the void
above the horizon.
I listened
to the sound
of the rain,
still so eager
to fall lightly
on the centipede.
I listened
to the sound
of the wind,
still so resentful
of restriction.
I listen
to the sound
of the automatons
that patiently
raze the forest
not too far
from where
I stand.
I wonder
what I could say.
The words
come to me:
"*Thus
abounds
the nature
of wolves!*"
﹊
Keep an eye on CERN!
﹊
∘ ⊱‧⌍⌈✞⌋⌌‧⊰ ∞
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
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