A Poem a Day (89): Self

Here’s a poem I wrote for JD Mader's 2minutesgo website. It’s a great place to go and write whatever is in your head, and read what others are writing in the group, and give/get feedback. It happens every weekend. Cheers.

Self

This part of the self is the one that breathes too easy,

Green as the grass inviting the reminiscence of rain,

Softening the dirt enough for the sparrow to find its worm.

And so it begins, this ring, this O, forever circling us.

Waking birds will jest and dive, and mate and sing,

While the things we count will never be numbers.

The arch is but a monument to our fond travails

And only the lark will rise early enough to sound it.

But I digress, and along this path walk with me.

These days are long, collected in puddles, mud-splattered

Pages blowing across an ever-misted lake drawn,

Offering you an emptied canvas, a fresh beginning.

But know the distancing will turn around only too soon,

For the tides grow impatient and darkness has its eyes.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, January 12, 2019