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 รจ 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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