THE COLOR OF A SOFT GRAY DAY

A soft gray day,
late January. . .

the pale sun,
the ambiance
so airy

breathe life and light
to spring’s small blooms,
and gentle pop
of squirrel peep,
plus bubbling
fresh birdsong. . .

the clear, cool warmth,
the quiet peace,
the feeling rising slowly up–
and coming strong–

but inducing, too,
a sense of ease. . .

I tour around
the hilly neighborhood,
I feel
the silhouette-bare trees
who save still up
their energy,
ere first leaves
at last will burst. . .

A year has come,
in fear,
in hope,
in spirit-thirst,
in feeling
well-accompanied,
yet also stark alone–

all stems and tendrils
of my root
now gone. . .

Ashes
lost in watery washes
back to the earth
laps of pacific waves to stir,
sunk down through a child’s bay
with endless mixes,
whitecap swirls and swishes,

bade I farewell
to sweetest kisses
and to all
the blinks and bats and winks
of those beautiful eyelashes,
mingled to the mush
of much
important history,
left quite unwritten,
even by me
in any secret diary,
where it might ever see
the light of day
or movie house
or print,

in any hint
of eulogy
or documentary–

But, I digress–

The beauty of this gray–
The sky,
the hair,
and splendor of emerging colors
twixt the black and white–

It all feels comfortable and right. . .

yet manages
to challenge me
to scan down from my slopey
vantage point quite high
to seek new days’ horizons,
as I squint the distance
in hope that I might see
how I ever
will be up
to rough
these new and good
strange roads
I want to lay ahead of me.

[Dear Readers,
Thank you for your interest in my poetry, and if you made it to the end here, a special thanks for reading this piece through!

I would especially appreciate a comment of a word or two on this particular poem. (longer is great if you’re so inclined, but I would appreciate any comment at all. Likes OK too, of course :~))

I tried out a new approach to my writing today, and wonder how that might affect the end result and how it speaks to you.

(Poetic Musings is a category for my longer, thoughtful pieces– this one is about 270 words).]

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This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Prayer, Seasons, Spring, Winter and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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