I see you, still scaling
The pedestal
I crashed from…
I’m not there,
Only fragmented feelings
And a faint scent
Remain…
I am the ravens
Gronking in alarm
Deep in the forest,
Just over your shoulder
I am the trillium
Blooming under
The wise ancient giants
Where the dank scent
Of moss mingles with death,
Where life remembers
A softer time
Before cycling back to decay,
And fortifies new life.
I am more and I am less
I am free and I am bound
A contradiction
Of power and desperation,
Whispering in the sunrise
Fading like mist in the twilight
Howling at the pink moon…