manticmined i bury myself
in the understone covered
fís and mistformed flowing
scáthed, bran storied days
under feathered of white
rest now rest now
pale blind enters night
cut crimson rivers slow
hazel once at the evening
come oak slipped of the morn
i am her come at blackthorn
i am her come of snow
you cannot see
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12 responses to “you cannot see”
Is “manticmined” a neologism from “mantikos” and “mined” or something else?
That’s a reasonable guess. I am prone to making up language based on root words from various languages when it suits me. Sometimes it is a simple mashup, other times portmanteau. Sometimes I just like the sound (rarely).
In this case “-mined” is intentionally meant to evoke both “mind” and “mined”. I’m intentionally obfuscating my meaning.
Thanks for the interest! 🙂
I feel I could slip into this poem, and find some deep needed rest.
Thank you Bob. I think I am in need of such a rest myself.
Please read this! 😄
I’ll have to think about it. I’m not 100% certain I can pull it off without sounding plain silly. 🤣
haha I’m sure it would be great! I didn’t expect you to – just complementing the sound of your words. 😊
Thank you. I appreciate it, Michele. Hugs!
Hugs! 🙏🏻
Almost Shamanic in its tone, I can see people swaying to its speaker, being willed to follow.
Not sure where, though!
That was part of the intent — I was trying to capture the ecstatic mindset. Thanks, Chris.
Worked for me.