ilo(st)

I have seen your foot cracking leaves
And I have seen your words
Touching a brook, kindling no waves
And I have seen lost in pure mornings
Their perfect mirror in a gaze
And then, from strawberry clouds,

The sun

A different sky lies in you;
A trembling kite, lost, is my mind,
You’re the child, the sky and the wind;
I can see your soul as a distant storm,
And you run, and you turn, and you blow
With blades of whispered grass, you cage it
To never let that dark glimpse grow

A different sky lies in you,
An inverted one: blue
‘s tinged the veil dismissing see-through
And when the high waves reach the bay,
As the moon does you move your ocean
And look away

This poem is the updated form of one from the cold, bright days of January 2017 – probably the one that made me truly fall in love with the craft of writing them. Thanks to A. Maione for saving it from oblivion – soon thou shall receive one too!

For the curious, the original was:

I have seen your foot cracking leaves
And I have seen your words
Touching the water and making no waves
And I have seen your eyes lost in a pure morning
A perfect mirror, a perfect circle
And then, from your strawberry clouds, the sun
A different sky lies in you;
A trembling kite, lost, is my mind,
You’re the child, the sky and the wind;
I can see your soul as a distant storm,
And you run, and you turn, and you blow
With blades of grass and whispers you cage it:
What’s the point in letting that dark glimpse grow?
A different sky lies in you,
An inverted one: when it’s blue
You’re not really seeing through
And when the high waves reach the bay
As the moon does you move your ocean
And look away