We are ancient trees of longing
saplings scrabbling sky
bark holding breath for morning
limbs reaching for wayward stars
roots thirsty for darker water.
We are head-down growing
turned to stone
alone in our soil-sigh wanting.
Jinx us with juniper branches
small black curses of shadow
hexagon spells of hope
faux-fortunes in winter fabric
butterfly kisses of death.
We are but a scattering of seeds
a smallish smattering of soul
the loose thought floating skyward
the spark-trail of snuffed wish
the swish of something unpocketed.
We address the dawn
return folded edge to sender
stuff moments of splendor
deep with seated bliss,
sealed with a kiss.
Quickly, day 28.
Thank ya, Sir.
So many good lines in each verse.
We are ancient in our DNA yet babies of the universe.