Its croak.
A multitude.
A flock.
A breath of paisley.
A sing-song soliloquy.
The rain,
The drought.
Everything,
and nothing at all.
They compose silence
And impress the air.
Tendriling the jasmine steeped palm heat
Like inken roads of whale-milk,
Heavy with the crush of elephantine ties.
I wear their ribbit ditties like a mandala on my chest
And walk earthly straight with their weight in my neck.
For them, I carry it forth.
For the thousands
And the hundreds
And the tens
And the ones.
For each one, I reverberate and trepidate and cry.
The soughs of the banyan graze and milk me;
Return to me a past emptiness:
Soles upon pebbles,
Hands grasping red-dirt air,
Only the funnel of frog rattle
Could do so little,
And so much.
Here, I am a different self.
A child of 3 with gold bramble green eyes,
A pattering of heartbeat and footprint,
Shots of laughter and sun swallowed hair,
Firefly fingers and tap-shoe toes,
Chocolate stained lips and butter lined fingers.
Author notes
This is actually nothing of any sort of meaning. It's terribly inscrutable and highly unworthy of any sort of critique -- just don't waste your time... but it means something to me regardless.
It should probably be about 3 poems and eventually - when I have the time - I will edit it again, and again.
Comments
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"For each one, I reverberate and trepidate and cry."
gorgeous lines.
and the ending.. was too perfect.
the use of sun swallowed hair & bramble green eyes..
beautiful images. i dont understand how you dont think this should be commented? its deserving of alot of things. i dont think anyone could harshly critique this!
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Wow, thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me. I was afraid it would be insanely esoteric but I suppose it wasn't! I have this strange affinity for banyan trees (specifically the one in Lahaina, Maui) and the sounds of tropical frogs. I'm glad that I was able to convey my love and that my images were appreciated.
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