February Chrysalis

Few (mundane) things are more defeating than to put your pen to paper,

To drag your hand across, and to know that whatever

Is written will fall short. But I write, because the early morning

Was something extraordinary, the master’s fine silver

Melted down and repurposed to embellish this town.

A week has passed with blue skies in day, full constellations

By night, and a present edge to each inhale that is winter’s,

And only hers. For the valley, February is soaked-through

On most occasions, dripping from the outside to the insides,

And back out again. Rain is inevitable, always, “soon.”

We are slaves to the rain; most cower under hood, under

Roof, under umbrella, under newspaper – always under,

In the body and mind, but I find security and comfort,

And often open my chest to leave my heart to its thunder,

And mind to its lightning, for the pooling water conducts.

That curtain has fallen back into place, and when I

Called it silver, that is no justice, it’s a molten moon

In color, midnight skin in feel (things needing your

Assembly, in that putting together between where my

Words end and where you begin – where there’s more).

There you can see deep in the woods, same as I do

From this city house. There is a rain that hangs to

the forest floor,  where the glowing fern hugs cold

To the ground as pine-needles scent the wet dew

Of their embrace – where they whisper and unfold.

13 thoughts on “February Chrysalis

  1. Lovely insight here, I feel. I especially like the last few lines (taking nothing away from the rest) where you speak of the rain that hangs etc… Delicate and evocative stuff.

  2. James, I loved reading this – awesome poem, rich with imagery, especially, “a present edge to each inhale that is winter’s,” and, “often open my chest to leave my heart to its thunder, And mind to its lightning, for the pooling water conducts.” – wonderful phrasing throughout, but these really stood out for me. Really well done. ~ Julie 🙂

  3. love this part (honestly the one that i think i understood)
    “To drag your hand across, and to know that whatever is written will fall short”

    this is a feeling I’ve often associated with…with so many things. it conveys the idea so well. think i fell short in conveying what i wanted to right here 😉

  4. Man, and this illustrates exactly what I meant in my comment, you do it all, not only do you have such a fine eye for detail which you’ve illustrated in your outstanding visual works, you have the words to back them up as well! And that my friend, is the ultimate…

  5. A fresh poem again. Part of what makes it fresh is the unity built around the theme of rain and small stories that help, together, to build the unity into a poem. There are so many great lines:
    A week has passed with blue skies in day, full constellations
    By night, and a present edge to each inhale that is winter’s,
    These are made great by the sentence’s over all construction and the building of the list, ala Ralph Waldo Emerson and his discussion of lists in “The Poet.” There is a rhythm here that makes the language beautiful
    This is really good work.

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