By Francis Scudellari
A thought berthed vague, airy
At first, wistful wanting
Up-drawn to feeling mist,
Diffuse-lit longing, cast
In sudden sight, condensed,
Tempered steel-gray vapors,
Once scattered, now recalled,
New culled from errant streams
Gathered droplets weighing,
Made dense, dark-lined cloud bursts
Again, cascades down words,
Feeds gurgling rivulets
Bubbles over rock beds,
Splits apart, diverted
To many pools, waiting
My next cyclic cleansing
8 comments:
"To many pools, waiting
My next cyclic cleansing"
Check. we are on the same wavelength
mi ha fatto piangere dall'emozione...
Troppo bella!!!
bellissima...
il disegno sopra è una lacrima,
si
Tu Francis sei come un missionario, profeta, dio solitario-unico sulla terra!
sei invivibile e scostato...
ma porti dentro un tesoro!!!
Hi GSGF,
I think we're often on the same wavelengths ... must be emotional telepathy.
Ciao Hanna,
Prophet, eh? I get the sense my internal treasure is only appreciated by the very few, but I value those few beyond words :).
seeeee,
un giorno ti faremo un monumento!
eterno
"A thought berthed vague"
Really good use of words Francis. Your poetry is truly unique (I know I sound like a broken record).
The artwork is truly fabulous as well. As you say, your work is appreciated by the few but you do have a loyal following of minions. :-)
~JD
Hi JD, I'm happy to have a broken record as long as it's playing something I like :). I wouldn't refer to you as "minions" though. That has some negative connotations.
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