The First Leaf Seen
The Eden of
the first leaf seen
is peace enough.
After that green,
whatever’s left
sustains itself.
I only need
recollect how
blind I was when
vision was mine
to lose; I trained
my eyes to paint
bright hues—Sight is
too plane: the mind
can trick the brain
to never use
the light again.
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I trained my eyes to paint bright hues……
“Everything is ok, it is, it really is” when it is only so obvious that it is not. Love your writing Mark.
Right. And I was torn between bright and dark hues, or bright and dark hues. Bright had the best sound so it stayed. I am just as capable of tainting things the other way too.
Excellent. That first line grabbed me and wouldn’t let go: “The Eden of /the first leaf seen /is peace enough.” Damn, that by itself is a poem. Woo! Feelin’ electric! Good writing does that to me.
Thanks Robert! So glad to have you on my site and reading some. I’ve been enjoying your stuff. Still can’t shake that image of a scroll of piano player sheet music across the sky, or whatever it was.
Oh, wow…yeah, that was it. That makes my morning.