~
I step lightly between the landing of the animus
The muse who comes lifting honey
from the hives
~
Pollinating words penetrating
through veils
Boundaries permeable by light
still feeling the sinew and bones of intention
smiling around dark corners
unabashed
“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””
Pregnant with Animus…keep it steady there © J.H. White
Poetry of Light 
when reading
I’m whirling in
naive flight
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… an explorer’s dance on a sweet and tender fringe 🙂
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You continue to astound me, reaching my wordless thoughts so effortlessly.
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Thanks guys…it’s all this good company :~)
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“still feeling the sinew and bones of intention
smiling around dark corners”
I know these corners.
They are the inter
sections of our city.
They are bound
in the flesh of
these resonating
sound waves…
Peace–
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Your response surprises me, Gravity….in a good way. You are often saying your poems are ‘messages to self ‘ which is so true for me as well.
Some comments, on the other hand, often clarify this beautifully by being solid confirmation of a direction already chosen but not quite brought to light.
I’ve been realizing I need to begin addressing the collective in my work. And here we are … at the intersections of the city.
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I have been thinking much lately about the being of animals in the city, human or otherwise.
I find the tension and friction frustrating, fascinating, aggravating and reassuring all at the same time.
I miss the the wilderness, but I try not to wish for things to be other than they are, so I sometimes feel a bit haunted by these things, memories of mountains, a longing for a certain brand of loneliness.
Ah, well. Don’t forget to look both ways…
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Interesting you should mention this…my longing for wilderness is more acute lately than it has been since I left it to live here in this small mountain city. So while my infant grandson and I walk the streets I look up. Old city trees spread out with little competition for light into magnificence. Even with tree hackers making a mess of their form to make more room for wire lines they resiliently recover. So I think I understand where you are coming from. I also find it frustrating, fascinating, aggravating and reassuring …. been noticing and learning a few things myself. Cheers…
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Powerful and lovely, Jana. I started to quote my favorite line, then went back and reread the whole piece a few times and realized that I just dig the whole poem :). Thank you.
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Thank you Chloe….in re-reading this I hear a bit of the exuberant and spirited alliteration that I love in your poems 🙂
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say it again
~
I’ve always
savoured the sounds
of your words
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re-visiting walks in the woods at night
lit by fireflies in a jar…
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Hey, I think of you some days. Just wanted to tell you that your face has elegant beauty. Your poetry is the penetrating light that streams from your soul and out from your eyes. Thought I should let you know. As a friend used to say to me: it is just a simple fact. Have a good rest of the weekend! 🙂
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What kind words Ted! Thank you…. have a good one too!
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