weekend poem #2

it's fall!!!!!!!!!!!!!

written on the fall equinox of 2020— more stream of consciousness/processing than a real attempt at poeticism. loves it and y’all nonetheless

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Renewing and revisiting my traditions of love

How can I bless them herein

Autumn makes me magic, certain oils of myself

And the world. What dies in the world and how is it honored

Sometimes we mourn by revival in cold moonlight

I am gold and green and royal all over

Now who was I planning on thanking and where did they go

Now who was I planning on thanking and where did they go

Don’t go looking for what lives in posture

Stand tall make room for the love within

.

Nothing ever changes, only becomes more or less illuminated

Perhaps we identify too strongly with the knowledge we have,

With the ability to learn itself. Everything gathered is simply that

It does not become.

.

My most alive when I remember those who are no longer around

What ignites us, boils blood like transformation

You in my wrinkling sinuses now, the purgatory spot

What makes room, sets free like tears

.

And you question if it’ll ever happen for you again

And we go through the motions and feel bad when it builds up inside

There are things I will process in due time

I’m grateful to be healing in the brisk and warm alike

Under a Virgo sun and a reversed moon

And dad called because he knew

.

Like swallowing lake dirt at the end of a fishing hook,

Like how the rain compresses such muck then allows it to breathe,

The love between us transformed