constellating silver and black,
hang, waving a dangled cluster
of dendrites, each with a full-stop
of juicy bounty longing
to explode blue-black links
between a tree root, leaf and fruit
and out into an inky mouth that flies
away, winging air: a fountain of creation.
Wow, this is some amazingness poetry here. I am in awe.
ReplyDeleteThis could be a perfect ending for my poem/post of agony this morning. God just spoke directly through you to me, no distance at all. Fruit man. Big fruit.
ReplyDeleteThanks for listening. Saying it.
The 'fountain of creation' 'hang' a wonderful cycle here. One must look close to see the whole process explode into tapestry of the biosphere. Sorry for getting giddy. I am reminded of the Medusa and the Snail, where Lewis could not keep his mind still thinking of the two symbiots together.
ReplyDeleteNice!
@lenbogarad
Three great comments here already I need say no more than that.
ReplyDeleteWow - love it. :)
ReplyDeleteterrific poem
ReplyDeleteExcellent. Thank you for sharing with us. :)
ReplyDelete