Good afternoon hallowed masses! The rain seems to be stimulating a return to bloom for all things and I do appreciate its fine efforts.
As you know, I rarely eschew my habit of rhyming but every once in a while something less constrained seems to pry its way loose.
“Harvest”, May 12, 2018.
Inspiration flits about, bee like and decidedly frantic
Pollinating, flower to flower and mind to mind
Petals of infinite colors may spring forth unbidden
Or, cast aside, wither to lonely, dried out husks
Mortality confirms life, fire catalyzes rebirth
Dead plants the best fertilizer for next season’s crop.
I wanted to emphasize the idea of ruined ideas or failed actions as the bedrock of the following attempt’s efforts. Consciously or not it’s what we’re all doing to some degree of efficiency or other. Don’t throw away the past, salvage the pieces and start the rebuild from beyond the zero mark. Maybe blow on them a bit first, might still be a tad hot from the flaming wreckage…
It’s sort of funny, I started the piece because I couldn’t think of anything and in the end that’s exactly what the poem is. Creativity’s peculiar. This poem IS this poem. Meditate on THAT kids.
A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.