magic bugs
magic bugs
in the undergrowth make you wonder
what mechanisms course through their not -very -veins
below their silver skins below silver skeins
of moon light the way they
change, mouthparts seeming one way , then
another in the tricky light- quiet
sounds of click and whisper in the night as
they
rearrange the twigs and branches on the ground
and braid the furze
to greet the day
with a forest like
vision on acid -words etched
and hidden everywhere shifting half-meanings hid
in what is still everyday and growing -and
which bugs are they? you might catch one
in the gloaming , and crush it in your hand
the tiny machines to reveal -but then
a thousand lights like fireflies
might gather round you
and decorate the forest
with strands of your hair
and scraps of your scent (the missing
persons hounds to confounde- ) even - echoes
of your laughter and wonder, as you beheld
the truth behind the secrets of the morning
and went - glad
in the going
with that knowledge
(even so, cyber -entomologist and
seeker of secrets -
even so
might you go).
2011.
4 comments:
very nice, peter, thank you very much. it had been too long since you posted something here yourself.
what an experience!
loved the way you made this a journey into awareness...
so mystical and beautiful...
namaste!
Thanks, you guys.
We don't have enough poems about bugs!
Post a Comment