September 14, 2015

le fantasmi galanti autunno del sacro anima...



le fantasmi galanti autunno del sacro anima


under a spell of rain 
this cool September morning, 
I bend low to hear my soul, 
and in turning toward Winter 
I find it hard to stay
warm and tucked 
inside the promise 
of being alive...

with a hot cup of tea, 
I stir my broken self 
raising my body to greet 
the pale grey light 
I try and understand 
what causes me 
to keep going...

idolatry and uniformity 
casting a wide net of horses 
riding out to meet me
where the exhales greet 
what tomorrow knows...

is this world for me, it seems 
it does not want to understand 
the beauty of decay 
though I keep saying
maybe today it will...

humpty dumpty is on the wall again, 
a friend of fragile skin and golden heart 
he understands as I do, why 
I let some of the basil go to flower 
everyone likes to watch 
the slow bees 
at the end of Summer 
take to late nectar 
and go to where 
all beginnings can 
meet their end...



EJR ©

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