deepundergroundpoetry.com
Communion at Dusk
i. presence
skin to earth, grounded
thoughts inflating sky balloons
just above my graying head,
tethered only by thin ribbon
hastily tied by my mother’s
seamstress hands;
her knots will hold
of that I’m sure
yet I still feel threatened
as the thinly-stretched orbs
bump precariously
into one another,
squeaking in a way
I find unpleasant;
my mouth, salty iron
tense in anticipation
of the ever-impending
*pop*
ii. supplication
the grass is just showing off
an impossible version of green,
dare I say it’s nearly gaudy
in this flat, yellow place;
I dig my bare toes in,
willing its audacity to endure
the outright nerve to exist
in this minuscule oasis
I pretend connects me
to forests, ancient
scattered among this desert
of yellow complacency,
I implore it to lend its tenacity
to the soles of my bare feet,
gaining purchase in my blood
iii. restoration
winds from lands
I’ve never explored,
come all this way
just to run chaotic fingers
through my hair;
wisps of cotton candy
finely spun cloud-floss,
fading butter-yellow sunlight
tinted with watercolor pastels,
the faded denim and dried clay
of a long summer day
worn out and ready for sleep;
the artist is dozing,
brush in hand
over-blending the edges,
leaving a muted gray transition;
quickening breezes
tug at my satin anchors,
urging me to loosen their knots
and give them up
and for once
I do.
skin to earth, grounded
thoughts inflating sky balloons
just above my graying head,
tethered only by thin ribbon
hastily tied by my mother’s
seamstress hands;
her knots will hold
of that I’m sure
yet I still feel threatened
as the thinly-stretched orbs
bump precariously
into one another,
squeaking in a way
I find unpleasant;
my mouth, salty iron
tense in anticipation
of the ever-impending
*pop*
ii. supplication
the grass is just showing off
an impossible version of green,
dare I say it’s nearly gaudy
in this flat, yellow place;
I dig my bare toes in,
willing its audacity to endure
the outright nerve to exist
in this minuscule oasis
I pretend connects me
to forests, ancient
scattered among this desert
of yellow complacency,
I implore it to lend its tenacity
to the soles of my bare feet,
gaining purchase in my blood
iii. restoration
winds from lands
I’ve never explored,
come all this way
just to run chaotic fingers
through my hair;
wisps of cotton candy
finely spun cloud-floss,
fading butter-yellow sunlight
tinted with watercolor pastels,
the faded denim and dried clay
of a long summer day
worn out and ready for sleep;
the artist is dozing,
brush in hand
over-blending the edges,
leaving a muted gray transition;
quickening breezes
tug at my satin anchors,
urging me to loosen their knots
and give them up
and for once
I do.
Published 23rd Jul 2020
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likes 11
reading list entries 9
comments 14
reads 327
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Jul 2020 7:03am
23rd Jul 2020 7:06am
23rd Jul 2020 7:08am
The visions this narrates are beautiful in a sorrowful poem that end in inspiration.
It reads as if a balloon is weighing you down, and letting it go raises your head up.
You once again paint pictures in my mind as you so often do.
It reads as if a balloon is weighing you down, and letting it go raises your head up.
You once again paint pictures in my mind as you so often do.
23rd Jul 2020 7:11am
I love the idea of letting them go like balloons, it’s always been a comfort. Thank you, Love ♥️
23rd Jul 2020 3:35pm
I absolutely LOVE the circular effect between the vs coming home has. The process was a delight to read, and the imagery sharp—both physically and emotionally.
Thanks for sharing. xo
Thanks for sharing. xo
27th Jul 2020 3:26am
23rd Jul 2020 10:31pm
Circles, cycles, spirals - our lives are shaped with many stages of completion on the heroic journey home - great write Luna.
27th Jul 2020 3:27am
24th Jul 2020 5:35am
Dear L,
Beautiful write. In addition to communion you have Baptism, Confirmation and Matrimony as one with nature and its true harmony. I am encouraged to read this as accepting ourselves as is and knowing we are beautiful as is. Even on the days we least believe it. Letting go of all the negative voices rumbling through our heads and hearing the voice of nature tell us it will be okay as we keep walking towards that inevitable sunset.
Really amazing piece. H🌷
Beautiful write. In addition to communion you have Baptism, Confirmation and Matrimony as one with nature and its true harmony. I am encouraged to read this as accepting ourselves as is and knowing we are beautiful as is. Even on the days we least believe it. Letting go of all the negative voices rumbling through our heads and hearing the voice of nature tell us it will be okay as we keep walking towards that inevitable sunset.
Really amazing piece. H🌷
27th Jul 2020 3:28am
Thank you Honoria. You’ve captured the way I see nature and my connection to it; it feels good to be seen 💜.
25th Jul 2020 1:30am
I like the places our friends took your write. I was feeling things like the reminiscences of family, generations handed down, the passage of time of course, a simultaneous connection and disconnection, also the same with nature. I like what Josh said in particular. There is a kind of Zen acceptance I feel though rather than sadness. You're letting it all flow through you in these unhurried details. Beautifully proportionate writing, palpable emotional depth.
27th Jul 2020 3:30am
Yes, that acceptance of all that has accumulated to bring us here, to the now. There is a sense of zen peace in that. Thank you for your kindness, my friend 💜.
8th Aug 2020 3:40am
Reading your work always feels like waking up from sense dep and gradually feeling the dimensions of every sense seep back in, deepening with every layer. I admire the careful hand in mixing the visceral impact of your verbal dynamics. Very steady
13th Aug 2020 5:13am
