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*** Yes…Obscessed with Poetry! *** As the moon was releasing finale beams And the sun was dressing For her later, post-solstice, winter rise… I had not yet slept, kept Awake by epiphanies of poetics — My tireless pen scribbling Down the rushing lyrics to their Rising score. Then, as the clouds refused to part To reveal our sun’s well-warming light at her mid-day height, I was excitedly expounding About the knowlege my night with poetry had brought, revealing, So i thought, some meaning about the human psyche, More than just matters of words. But, beyond the import Of Poetry growing a range of spring Violets across my nigh clear pages, An afternoon’s gust replete With January hail, Fell over me after I exclaimed, “Amazing?” and to hear in response: “Look, you’re obscessed with poetry. I’m not. And I was just wondering how long before quiet would —“ Eliminate the wondering… As (justdays before Christmas), on A cold afternoon, a storm passed through The city with little warning. Flashed lightning twice over The sky, and sounding but once, Thunder struck us dumb. Quiet? I hear inner gusts Smack my tears against the windows’ panes. My amusement is drowned within the room. Quiet? While I could scream — Yes! Yes! I am obscessed With poetry With God With my beloved, and our pups With drawing, dance and music, too… But, foremost, I am obscessed — To say and stay so, With living With surviving in blessed Hope — on past the trials of ailments and the hard gales of age — While Thankful to poetry — perhaps anong the least of most of these, For its patiently waiting ways — Within the All and everyone one of us — So we hold images in our dreams of seeing Violet buds spring their heads Above a layer of January snow, And we might hear the poems’ rise In its brilliance From each opening purple petal. —————————————————————————————————————- (c) sally you g eslinger 1/ /2023 Thanks be to God…
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