Little Dip in the Hill,

Life...brings nightmareous storms, sometimes with thunder-eyes that always seem to track us. Running can keep us unwounded, but also unfound. So I hide treasures; pieces of me in between, to find.

I once had a dream, about this --

little dip in the hill,

A perfect crater. I don't know why

Maybe, a tree was plucked from it's

Roots, as two have been since

I've known here,

Crimes against electric wires...

But no, not this dent.

-

There was something...

Soft -- about this dent.

A pulling in of the green,

A puddle of the snow,

A stream of the leaves.

A secret spot, glitching upon --

my mind, in the memories of time.

A hidden spot of light.

-

On...a sad sad day, I buried --

my only creature comfort there.

I thought...maybe, that spot could 

fill the absence if I filled it

But the dug-out was too shallow

And though my heart was big,

the passion in it didn't fit --

Maybe I was under to much pressure...

Maybe...I put it in the wrong place 

-

After, that day, I knew

The hollow had a meaning where...

it had always had a meaning before

Just incomplete and incomplete again.

I wanted to dig it out and --

Try to cover it up once more.

-

So I kept going back to it in dreams

like some ethereal supernatural force.

Till, passion merged with old creature comforts

And the dirt was rife with life.

I realized...I like to bury things

Squirrel them away, too rushed to cherish and --

Save for another day, long past the...

Winter. 

-

A storm was brewing in the sky,

the world was slanted --

On a hill, my whole life brewed

From measly childhood to soul down roots

Round I ran, knowing, unknown

But, treasures built --

from my heart; weighed upon my back

I knew, I knew, I had to hide them --

Savor them; keep them safe

They had to survive the Storm

Unharmed, untouched -- so many, so precious.

-

This, was the dream; about this --

little dip in the hill,

Where I placed my special treasures,

knowing it was a cradle of suppleness

And safe-hold. 

Down, I ran after, till time came again --

the light was dim, unclear, but the storm

was silent, so I snuck off with vivacious

desperation to retrieve the --

Pieces of my heart. I came, there was

Nothing, each item was trash, valueless

But the ground was hallowed.

I felt giddy, laughter, and bitter-sweet

chocolate-chips. I felt...released

And safe. Then the storm hit

And I held onto that hallowed ground

in that hollow in the dip of the hill,

Desperate claws in earth, hunkered back 

-- knowing it would protect me from the

evil eyes of the storm, Surrounded by...

effervescent, spiritual items

that bubbled up from the lost value of my

stow-aways.

-

I woke up, and I thought all was meaningless, all my treasures...

But I realized, it wasn't the items, but the keeping.

Author's Note

Unedited. A bit longer than I'd have liked, but it's the outlines of some very strong memories, which is one thing poems are good for.