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The air is rare today
Electric and esoteric
It dances on my skin
And speaks to me
Of unknowable truths
Unassailable secrets
And the world some
Occasionally suspect
Is really there.
"Listen!" it whispers
Soughing softly
Across a canopy
Of sentinel trees.
"Witness!" as the
Waters of my pond
Kiss soft the bleeding sun.
I struggle with
Peripheral vision
And recollections
Of once vivid dreams
Or childhood memories
Seen through a tunnel
Like reversed binoculars.
What is this tingle?
Half remembered scent
A taste of something
So pure , so right
It evokes both joy
And apprehension.
A thing permeated to
Pregnancy with what
I can only call divinity
Should scare me
Senseless.
In fact the very
Ghostlike scent
Dancing on my skin
Shackles my hairs
And leaves an anxious
Twinge...
I do the only thing
I can conceive.
I run towards this
Fear.
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the title alone captured my attention daniele. gosh, this was a good read. the flow was perfect, the imagery... just one thing: soughing (is that a typo, supposed to be coughing?)
great lines:
"Witness!" as the
Waters of my pond
Kiss soft the bleeding sun.
This is just a really really good read for me. *clap *clap
