The Mimosa Effect 2

Still writing, just took a little break from blogging.  Editing going apace; will go more apace once the latest spring bug has stopped trying to lay seige to my immune system.

we are all
so fragile
and yet
we go about
our lives as if
we were made of
much sturdier stuff
in the pantry
the delicate china cups
and the fluted
crystal wine glasses
waltz madly
as if they were
unbreakable
despite the forest
of shards that
tells us otherwise
we carve our hearts
on silver platters
feed the still
beating pieces
to waiting mouths
blinded by faith
that someone else
will do the same for us
and no one
will go hungry

——-

did you know
that enough hands clapping
sounds like a waterfall
that a thousand people singing
will always be in tune
that sometimes
it’s impossible to tell
if the tears
in the back of my throat
are for joy, or sadness,
or merely just
another symptom

-T.H.

ancient matters

elephant cousins
creating bastions
in the damp loam
weaving shrouds
to cover their dead
slide themselves through
the ebb and flow
of the long grass
they can be silent
when they choose to be
respect for the ancestors
no misconceptions here
only history

——

prophet

the bees are gathering
in the honey kitchen 
up on the roof
the buzzing hum of it
fills her ears like sand
she shudders in her sleep
dreams of drowning in sweetness

meanwhile, in Elysium,
snow-covered streets
claim the ocean floor
a submerged amber flash

they are coming
cutting through snowdrifts
scattering nests and tiny bones

pink skeins twine
around her outstretched fingers
cognizant only
of what the future holds
the present forgotten
subsumed
in the elephant’s graveyard

some say she waits for
the end of the world
but I know she waits only
for you

- T.H.

The final two for April, using a prompt from PoeFusion.   I took my seed words from this month’s National Geographic and a couple of fridge magnets. 

Thanks to ReadWritePoem for helping to keep the momentum going.  A month immersed in poetry was just what I needed.  May will see a return to prose for me, with a focus on novel editing, both of which will hopefully be suffused with a re-awakened poetic sensibility – or at the very least, a renewed appreciation for the beauty of language.  Reading other people’s poetry has also been a great way to spend some of those little crumbs of spare time each day.  If you get the chance, I highly recommend it.  Especially if words have become dull, heavy things of late - I guarantee it will breathe life back into them again.