Its been awhile...

But apparently I have something inside that is trying to claw its way out. I am out of practice and it hates me for it, not being able to exorcise itself with ease. So, after much torture, a poem to be read and forgotten...

Untitled

the colors are vivid like spilled paint and the earth
is baked and bountiful, a soft kind of warm in the stifling air
the stalks crowd around me tightly in their uniform rows
but they refuse to march
everything still, everything quiet and it is the quiet
that hammers down on me
the noisy city of air conditioners do not kick, rattle and sigh
even the wind settles slowly to keep the leaves from rustling
the colors green and yellow through lighted transparent leaves
crisping everything around me as the beaming sun strains with heated exertion

but oh, all that is glorious in some spinning unknown heaven
I bless thee for the silence
no crow-caws
no highway drone buzzing on the sill of the horizon
no concrete echoes

it envelopes me and holds me down with a parental strength
yet of course it is fleeting and small
and can be taken away an infinite number of things, mindlessly
but I can close my eyes and just be here now
and block out the rest
centering myself with a tight-lidded shudder

not enlightened by the dirt or the sky
but in a perfect unhappening, the utmost not-doing
the sound and the fury have left me to my own bare thoughts
and I don't care if they ever come back at all
because its right now

and now its not

the tractor crests a faraway hill and the bee bumbles awkwardly by
moving air drifts and trails its hand along the row of green
leaving rustling trembling in its wake
a name called out over the field-top, searching for someone with my name
but I curl and hide more
reveling in a furrowed bosom of calm

to not-wait again for the next void to not-happen