Saturday, 23 March 2024

Nectar from a tree

 


The sound

of snow thawing. Still. Silent.

Or is it?

If you listen to the pull of the atoms,

they fizzle, with excitement.

Bubbling over like a frothy drink

shaken to the edge of an explosive brink.

Like schoolchildren on a bus,

given too much sugar. The can

explodes in a blink. A volcanic splash

of gushing, fizzing energy rushes past.

The sparks and cracks of the universe

putting in one final gasp before it gives up and snaps.

 

You hear the slurps and pops.

The splashes as the crashing

ice palace cascades.

Mini avalanches grinding against stone

towards the ground like a million pounding

feet, a sound

like thunder marching home

or gunfire tearing the sky in two.

 

It's like static

buzzing through a universe of sound.

Spoken almost secretly.

Just a crackle, a glitch,

but turn to the channel and tune

it a bit, twist your head

to catch the frequency

and you may get a clearer view.

We are all vibrations of this grand, 

stirring cosmic stew.

No matter how far and wide,

the whispered words sometimes creep through.

 

Sometimes the sounds do go silent,

and I hear only you.

Your breath passing through your lips,

into the atmosphere where it dances and slips,

flipping and trips with the atoms,

before landing on my cheek

to plant me a growing kiss.

 

And your voice

like flowing nectar from a tree,

Takes my body,

drags me closer to happiness

than anything I could ever construct,

purchase or construe.

every hair stands on end

trying to get closer to you,

to be one of the few

to be touched by your sweet sound

as it flows through.

Every goosebump comes out to witness.

They can't resist it.

Like a siren song, that voice 

like the pull of an ocean, 

and we can only ever drown

in those sounds when we hear them come.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Please take a few moments 

to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"

available from Amazon

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/

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Peace, Love & Poetry 
 
Kyle
 

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