Sunday, April 25

Obsidian and Ashes

the direction of molten rock
created an contortion of perception
covering all she once knew
leaving in its wake obsidian and ashes
cultivating creation of a new structure worth striving for
not unlike the spring time tune of the ranting magpies outside these walls

even so
underneath it all
deep inside
she's crossing a great divide
and yet still the hardened Earth survives
emerging from a different call
yet here she still sits
listening to the insight
wondering what to make of not squandering it all
strolling through her mind like it was an exhibition hall
like she could just take it all down
and see that sweet, sweet clear jar of dill pickles there

careening into
the myriad stories filling up this ocean liner
numerous conceptions
too many to discover
born out of a false reality
existing not here
but in a semblance of some other person
or mind
not here in this moment of wind blown bursting branches and reflective water streaming by

so now
for the first time she sees it
that in fact
love IS all over the place
and in a moment of erratically orbiting in her darkened sky
she bumps into a glimpse of a brightened nebuli

lasting eons
two days have now passed
and the seeming quickness
has surpassed that of understanding time

more cottonwood leaf green shows
still growing
yet there was always that flow
she just didn't notice as she walked by
ran by
sleeping by
but its that percolation
of hibernation
that throws her back into the coil
a streaming convolution
for some reason
but knowing that cycle is not worth anything less then cosmic appreciation

just now
a bud emerges from the other side of winter's shadow
after such a delicate spiraling to greet us and the wind once again
this continual birthing of life
right before her
manifesting in this moment
just this
just now
and with a swan dive into shark infested waters
and brave
she begins again
and again

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