Returning with a Poem

Luckily, I don't believe in consistency. I could keep a blog and not keep a blog. I can actively live for months or years at a time and not reflect once online; if that's what I feel like, so be it. Or that day could come again when I recall this blog and the joy that it brought me, and then I'll make another post.

BLACK HOLE WOMB

When way gives way to a black Siberia,
Though it’s equally dark with eyes cast open
As eclipsed behind clenched lids, keep gazing
Out into that raging, static night.

You’re at the ends of the timberline. Vastness 

Paralyzes your step. Trapped by the open
Plains of stillness, what do you feel?
You could retreat to your furnished truths
Or move beyond the edge
Into the barrens.

What do you decide
To hear when all is silent?

Yes, it’s gentler:
Crevice of bent elbow covering
Your view, your angst. But what
Is in blackness?

Follow the gesture of un-trodden night,
Feel the perhaps colors
Hidden past the treeless shroud.

When you dare study the void, walk
With beastly nothing, then from behind
The unseen horizon,
Up will fire a single trail of light
Winding above tundra,

A flash transforming sky to rosy willow.
Its branches shimmer.
Falling life, misty sweet,
Flickers that whisper down
Show you home in the not quite morning.