I burrow through the snow to wake my senses
in the flurry of warmth pervading out, I am in
the eye of the hurricane, my skin frosted, it
peels into papier-mâché, rising trees out of
sinew, it is comforting to see a new life form
from the dead extravagance I carry forth.
the chill does not affect the mind of a hermit
cross-legged standing for centuries, the fire
of tapas burns within his heart, and I see it
aglow in my third eye, I shake myself as fog
sheds its feathers, ice thaws in puddles of
a hope, murky and shallow, but rippling yet.
I found someone I do not know ahead of me
he is out, yet in, I am alone, yet I’m not.
I am so conflicted about the last line. When I wrote it, I was completely fine with it but after when I came back to edit it, my mood was completely transformed. It irks me to see it there.
For dVerse Poetics.