All kinds of currency to invest in. The turban of flowers arising gently from the Earth (what does it call itself?) like a jewel adoring a crown, reminding us of the royalty this planet is. Pure poetry for our senses, how it says so much without ever uttering a word. A well-fed bumblebee played courier to this exchange of funds, a low drone of a buzz tone as it floated to and fro making withdrawals and deposits, being fed in the exchange....
Giving and receiving. Pollinating progress. Let’s have a long distance love affair, I’ll be Iris and you be Pistil. We’ll open towards the sun exposing the beauty of our being until we catch the buzz, this is how we’ll make love-giving and receiving, being fed in the exchange.
Leave a Reply.
I am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse.