I feel it, know it – something calls
Clouds drift by, seeming with intent
Wisps of frozen anger shout down
But end in whispers as rooftops intervene.
Flocks of excited birds screech by
Lower, as if to emphasize some concern.
No selfish meanderings these – but then
Could the hidden voices combine
To shake eternity?
Or can one alone shatter worlds
And bring structure again to chaos
A lasting, cemented warmth
That joins hands forever.
“Wisps of frozen anger shout down” is really amazing. lol, I’m envious.
Beautiful, as your writing always is.
Yes, I did mean the book by Ayi Kwei Armah *grins* It’s highly recommended reading.
Emotions can dig up some extraordinary concoctions from the burial ground of hopes.
“How much has to be explored and discarded before reaching the naked flesh of feeling.” – Claude Debussy