I sing from
my salt depths
my wrecks-
pearl and bone
in each new wave.
This came to me as I was wondering what the ocean would say if all that squid ink coalesced and she could write a poem.
Hope you enjoy it, at the end of a year.
I saw him-
lit by moonlight
milk fur and soft
onyx eyes
pawing my garden
ripping the dirt
with his
fine hoof.
He did not
look up
though my heart
called him loudly.
Perhaps he
could not hear
through the window.
His antlers
wild
and noble
painted the sky
his home
in trees.
Quickly
his tail flashed
a white sail
in the night
my heart tore
to see
moonlight
in his wake.
I wonder
how it might
have
been
my life
from that night
for had he
met my eye
I would have
gone
with him.
It doesn’t have a name
though people
name it.
This light,
warmth,
strength
that wants to
reach you.
A diamond in
the darkest cave
moving
mountains to
uncover you
with grace.
The barriers in my heart
almost keep it out. But like
sound shattering
glass
glittering
through me-
Beauty without tears.
Some call it love
but this box
fails
its great
expansive
size.
This liquid gold
reaches its way
through
the cracks in our walls and
shines brighter
than any
one heart.
Walking a path
for miles
back and forth
carrying school
books since I was
a little girl.
I walked this road
sometimes running,
sometimes skipping,
sometimes in tears.
I knew every tree
I ate many
apples and blackberries
on my way.
I tripped over a stone,
and skinned my knee
when I was eight.
After years away
I walk this path
once again.
I lay down
my bag, heavy
with car keys,
wallet, glasses, and I
sit on the dirt in
mid-afternoon.
A caterpillar,
green and curious
peers out from
a leaf.
A robin hops near-
my heart strains
for the caterpillar-
and I realise
I have never seen
this path at all.
This poem came upon reflecting on ‘looking deeper’. The idea that I might see the same thing for a certain way for years, even, and one day- see something else in it. It’s a hopeful and rich feeling for me- looking deeper- but as a friend said upon reading this poem, I could never go back to the same path. True, I think, and that thought made me pause, silent for awhile.
Inky Cat's Poems 