Thursday, January 18

Green Afternoon

Dark masses rest on my shoulders
I do not
know of it

and yet I carry the heavy burden

Fusillade of leaves and
chips and twigs and

cries of birds, yet
the body moves
unknowing of its slouch
its droop, its collapse nigh.

Why? The answer is not in
the air but

in the heart, unheeded.

Light which shimmered at
the far end

has gone, the clouds
roll has stopped, it is a
but for a moment

when an eagle's shrill cry
brings the soul home

lends weight to my burden

The earth smells
of its vapors

Grudgingly as it gives
release to my oppression

The drab monotony
of grey clouds and
black skies

and it is then I
know of the weight I carry

A thousand murmurs
Rippling brooks, running rivulets
Muted rooks, swishing leaves
Blades of grass
taking all my weight

Life is alive,
is kicking,

The light is not far
was never far

It was only
the fear of the grey

But now I bathe in it
I take a step to

embrace it

it does not flinch

But takes two steps
to meet me halfway

I realize 'tis a green afternoon.



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