Before the planting
of the seeds,
the preparation
to plant the seeds—
too soon for the soil,
of course, but
here, the hands
of the planter.
Rose milk lotion. Rest.
The time for verbs,
later.
These long nights,
the time for dreams.
Out of darkness,
sprouting,
unstoppable budding,
sweet frolicsome riots
of soft and feral pink.
Time for verbs later. I too seek silence from word woods. Lexicons. And the like
Amen, sister
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Friday, February 3, 2017 at 10:59 AM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Imbolc”
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May we always be able to experience the “sweet frolicsome riots.”
Too, I love the juxtaposition of “soft and feral.” (And, likewise, “pink,” as well.)