I’ve never been religious much —
My Faith is in the trees.
The sort of Lord I worship flies among the Bumblebees.
And my idea of Heaven is buried ‘neath Her leaves —
The dirt from which the flowers bloom is all I’ll ever need.
So to my Loves, who walk this Earth, when I should walk no more,
Dig me a Bed and plant me there, and I’ll grow just as before.
I’m moving.
I’ve found a little place in the Past,
It’s not much but I think it’s quite lovely, very dear,
And things aren’t working out Here,
So I’m settling for memories.
It begins —
This thing call Spring —
With sunshine and birdsong
Slowly infused into everything.
It begins with
Deep brown rivers gauged in viscous dirt roads,
As the frozen ground thaws and overflows.
I painted my nails blue
because I couldn’t think what else to do
to stop myself from thinking of you.
I didn’t realize until they dried,
it was the very color of your eyes:
Comments
So atmospheric, and the rhymes are so well done! The capitalization and diction also make it seem very Shakespearean. Nice job!
Thank you so much!
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