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Wishes Of Simplicity

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I wish I had words to tell how the light filters through the tree branches
or how quickly my anchored soul takes flight from this acknowledgment.

I wish I knew how to capture moments of contentment and store them up like dried lavender
pulling them out when I need the scent of something sweet and fresh in the middle of winter

I wish I knew a secret language,
belonged to a secret clan,
knew I was special all the time,
not just when my eyes focused out the mad world
and settled on the way a bed of pine needles feel
or how the stillness of the forest falls over me like silk pajamas,
embracing my flushed, peeling skin

I wish I could bottle up each memory of certainty:

(The brilliant green of the dancing trees, the day I woke up in the new skin of being in love,
snow falling on distant headlights below, the night I woke up knowing impossible is nothing)

and take a swig when I forget how to breathe,
swaying and singing, drunk on alive-ness.

So for now I know my own heart beats
I know that today is here, sunny and calm,
the grass continues growing without an ounce of mental strain

But I wish I could dig beneath this layer of self importance and unessential yearning,
and believe in the magic of this day
that this day the wind blows in a way it never has
that this day each moment is as a newborn,
precious and single minded and completely unique

I wish I had the words to tell how the Light Shafts make their way into
the dark inner sanctums of my heart,
affliction and the gorgeous freedom that follows

Comments (1)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Very reminiscent of Walt Whitman. I really like the imagery of this poem. I also sense a longing for simpler days pervading through this work.

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