Floating And Sinking During Night And Day
Poem/Prose Collection. Written from March-May 2025
Rubbing the back of a child Trying to send signals of sleep Through my pressing fingers and into his being So that his eyelids may meet He coughs and sniffles His toes trace circles Speaking clearly to him through mind I say It's okay It's okay to rest Leave your emotions, questions, and decisions Right where they lay Rest Reeeessssssttt
------------------------------- Mucus drips from my nose like a leaky faucet It runs thin Not much substance looking to flee the innards of my terrain May all who leave get to where they need to go May all who stay help me navigate The vast seas in which I drift Through waters rough and calm
------------------------------- By mid-day I am in my car with the seat reclined all the way Life has knocked the wind out of me once again It drifts up above me now I watch through the cracked window as it rustles the leaves There are some needles that I just can't seem to thread My string might be frayed Or maybe the hole is just much too small Sometimes I'm not even sure what design I want to sew into this structure This creates pause But I won't know if the garment fits Until it is complete
------------------------------- The ground has a soft jaggedness to it as it gives way to a persistent stream. The moss makes a glowing home of every crevice, and the ferns arch their wild bodies in whichever direction feels right. I pick up a fallen tulip poplar flower, bud not yet blossomed. Manually peeling back each petal reveals effortless precision in design. Bold orange bleeds from the center into a light, dainty green. Tubular, pointed parts branch out from the obelisk middle. A millipede showed me this. They traverse away over hills of fallen leaves, flashing bright orange hello's and goodbye's of their own.
------------------------------- So many forms and names Forgetting to remember Remembering to forget Familiarity always finds me eventually Rippling like water over rock Smooth and rough To know is to change Stagnancy only happens when our backs are turned
------------------------------- Muddy creeks encircle Noise comes together Pits form and mounds follow Rain slips off the leaves Excitement fills the frogs in the pond Alright It fills me too
------------------------------- It is with such openness in your eyes that you look at me And with such excitement in your voice that you call my name Your hands make a beeline for mine As you repeat your whimsy Ensuring that there is no doubt within me Of your thoughts and feelings What have I done to garner such affection? Providing a safe space For love to land Is sometimes all that is necessary
------------------------------- Good morning, twinkling sun Bubbling ball of light Behind the oak leaves You have illuminated my hand And amazingly The space behind it as well Lack of light is also illumination Shadows are clear as day Aren't they?
------------------------------- The path that I walk is a desire path. You know, those paths that aren't paved or extremely established, but are maintained by use alone? In this manner, they are starkly different from paved paths. Paved paths wear down, disintegrate from continual use. Their definition cannot be sustained. Use IS sustenance for the desire path. Anyone who treads contributes to it's upkeep. The path on which I wander is overgrown. I could not be sure where it leads. My steps are met with the likes of confusion and beauty. Brambles and berries. May the brave who join me aid in the uncovering of journeys, nearly forgotten.
Thank u for sharing ❤️ I enjoyed reading 🤓
Zach—Love the last poem! What a thought provoking metaphor with the two different types of paths. Trail vs paved, maintaining our path through continual use. Thanks for sharing ☺️🙏