i have been twisting
bedsheets into ropes
in unsleep at nights
trying to untie my
soul from tinctures
of thorn and regret
some black stones
at the ocean and
under a beggar's
moon, hair flows
rivers as night
stars fall showers
razoring fingers
in the tweens
a barred owl
plays sentry in
lush trees
can i help but
come when called?
unsleeps
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11 responses to “unsleeps”
You close the gap supposed between human beings and nature so well, Michael. It really is a delicious talent of yours that I enjoy being exposed to. Beautiful.
Thank you very much, Raven. I am trying to grok in fullness these things. 🙂
You are welcome, Michael. It shows in your writing, that you do. It’s wonderful that you allow the rest of us in on your discoveries. Thank you.
Thank you 🙏
There is a genuine sense of unrest in this piece which makes it work powerfully, Michael. I get a sense of hollow symbolism in the figure of the owl – reaching out for wisdom where, perhaps, there is none.
An interpretation.
That’s an interesting take on the owl. The great thing is that you could be right, as I am not always certain what compels me to bring in certain imagery, I only know that those images belong. Subconscious reflection, perhaps, or other reasons outside of the normal way of thinking about such things.
Thanks!
I like it when the act of writing seems to take you somewhere and imagery appears before you’ve consciously thought about it!
I agree. It takes a certain amount of trust, but is well worth it when you can.
When called, you have to go.
There isn’t much choice correct.
No. Seems we got to go.