Vernality

Vernality

The room was bright with thought,

artificial chirps in the nearby,

a vacancy of leaves,

but they shook in the breeze,

a little enough for me to breathe

in the essence of spring on the horizon.

Things stood in a stillness of wait,

for what and whom not to be known.

But the wisdom of life swelled in the ground,

the scent of virgin moss filling the air with hope.

I wondered about my friends across the vast blue pond…

Was it reigning there on the ever of green,

amongst the chirps of their reality?

“It must be’” I thought,

for anything would be in my mind should I will it sow…

Focus back to the wooden slats on the outside,

broken and weathered with age not of mine.

Chaos takes over when you don’t trim the trees,

or cut the grasses that sway in the blur.

Succession begins in one moment.

I stare out the rooms of my thought and wonder…

how did I get here?

With trunks that ache,

and branches that creak and moan

like a barren tree in a hibernal storm?

The metal is tarnished against the rotting wood,

eroding away through the life in my mind,

and I stare,

again,

through the hours of my senses

with the rooms of time in my mind,

and ponder.

How did the grass get so long?

Author's Note

Some intentional misuse of words is used.

Reviews

[Perdition]

" On a cobweb afternoon In a room full of emptiness..." Cornell
As I read this aloud I thought how your slow "creakings and moans" in what ends hibernal in the spring was both of body and mind as well as perhaps the view. Your entrance, so sudden and bright, so hopeful but then to go where only poets and souls and nature have weathered over time and tide. Hauntingly beautiful to the last of lasting line...no doubt my favorite "misuse of words" in quite some time. Beautiful!

[Seriana]

Thank you so much! Love the Chris Cornell reference. A favorite. So appreciate your thoughts and kind review!

[emmajoygreen]

Seems Winter, dark and often depressing has been and is now passing into a wonderful drift of words, honouring the coming of Spring and all it brings. There are joyful thoughts of people distant, of colour and longed-for activity. Beauty and more warmly welcomed by your finely displayed poem! Beautiful!

[Seriana]

Thank you, Em. Appreciate you more than you know!

[June bug]

and branches that creak and moan
like a barren tree in a hibernal storm?

WOW!! this is gripping really, and quite intriguing. You write with amazing
imagery. This is quite a wonderful and powerful write.
VERY well written and thought out. I enjoyed your write a lot.

[Seriana]

Thank you, kindly, for your thoughts. I REALLY appreciate you stopping by to visit!

[An owl on the moon]

I love the scene of dormancy… awakening to life… the movement… the growth underneath it all. And you are there… connected to the life… There is vitality… yet also echoes of chaos… hope and hopelessness somehow dance there… Where there is neglect, wild things grow… when the world is nurtured… there is sweet fruit… in Earth as in the soul. The final words seem to ache… in the maturing of a garden… weary… worn… maybe wishing for a different season. So powerful and poignant.

[Seriana]

Thank you, dear one, for always gifting with beautiful reviews. Your words are eternal and sweet.

[An owl on the moon]

So grateful... thank you... my words just feel older and crotchety. 🙃