sometimes I do ceremony.

I stick only to a daily morning
ritual and try to strengthen
some resolve with consumption.
I feed the cats, clean their
litter box, then stretch
and write my dreams down.
then I walk the neighborhood
to soak up sun.


sometimes I just
let things pass
like cravings or
weather.

we do that for others;

carry our grief quietly.

bury things deep

within ourselves.

 

I feel the root rot and darken
without altar, water
or speech.
you walk in and
I’m here now
growing into a black trunk.
you walk in and look
right at me
and I don’t know
where to begin.

but I found the
aperture.
I begin to grow,
unfurl, hum
softly.

 

V.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: