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March: Rays of Hope and Optimism by LadyLincoln, journal
March: Rays of Hope and Optimism
Welcome to March. As the cold slowly begins to fade away to make room for the blossoming of spring, and a renewed season of growth— I also grow hopeful my heart will continue to be on the mend. It has not been an easy last few months (a vast understatement), but I carry on with the good fight to find my comfort, solace and joy. God willing, with some of the painful darkness behind me, I can look forward to brighter things. Though I am saddened to report: I am still trying to deal with all of the aspects of Terry's estate, along with the lingering reactions of the vaccine— and feeling the additional pressures of work and school, and so the never-ending battles carry on. Honestly, it still feels strange not seeing Terry whenever I stop by his house. His scent continues to linger in the air, and I wonder what he might have been doing, if he were still here. No doubt sitting in his cozy chair, reading a newspaper, or chatting about his neighbors, who liked to check in on him too
Orion by Poetrymann, literature
Literature
Orion
Let the stars make their protest;
let them trip us
roughshod and unkempt -
Orion
is at our side tonight,
and the dust from long ago
settles on this side
of heaven.
The air is spangled here -
it rests upon us
in a silver tallith
unravelling across the vaulted
sky and lingers where
our fingers clasp.
We have lost the moon,
that wanton keeper of lies
and wishes
only virgins make in summer;
and night,
that naked warrior,
blushes in this unkempt heat
and holds our senses
hostage.
Morphine by Poetrymann, literature
Literature
Morphine
My tongue swells like a gallows
and sticks to the roof of
my mouth each time I say deliverance.
The doctor says it is only
temporary and that I will
get over it in time.
Some mornings I wake up as a
poet - a random man of bones
and meat, clattering down the
sidewalks, hardly breathing
and afraid to move too quickly.
Once I fried an egg on the battery
of my car because I wanted to
see the summer heat rise up
like angels and tangle in the
power lines, knowing I am God's annointed.
The nurse says it's ridiculous,
that I should know better
that morphine will not kill me
and I can still step on cracks
without the world slippin
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring by julia-caitlin, journal
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden gard
