philosophy | Melinda Foshat

Anticipation

The universe spoke today
It was crisp and sound
I lost it almost in the thunder

There was no death
Nor any sight of a thousand herons passing by
Only the fleeting of anticipation

And for the first time, I listened
As the ant drowned out the rain

Think on our love not as wild
For I have no wish to out run
The reach of your fingertips

Think on our love not as right
For there is no one way I could hold you
Naked beneath a starless sky

Think on our love not as young
For I feel faint of breath
Having loved you my entire life

Think on our love not as long
For there is no time I wouldn’t give
To see you dream peacefully atop my grave

Think on our love not as love
But a knot between two souls
Which tightens upon the sight of your face

(One of the first poems I wrote. Thought I would post for fun.)

With every last breath
Hidden secrets mount in flight
Unnoticed by your sight
Spat down by your conscious mind

With each fallen year
Truths spring forth in search of light
Reaching for the sun
Jailed by your ignorant thoughts

Eternal roots kept buried
Diverged from your view
The senseless witnesses of withering
Spring forth sentencers of youth

To grow old is not to die
But to grow up one more time

When our leaves gently fall
Amidst the dead chill of fall
Then we blend into the ground
Where we wait until we mount

Like the seeds of fallen fruit
Born within eternal root
Our flesh is merely but a lie
To seal man’s soul from man’s eye

A night sorely spent
Weighed down by blistered knees
Bearing the blunt of every last cigarette

Burnt is the dawn
From which time knows no return
As the moon lays her head
On the end of the dangling sun

Her final cry
Forces the stillness from the air
Inside their hearts

The nakedness of her back
Contours the water’s edge
Shielding them from their reflection

They look away
There is nothing left to see

Still, the fish swim in circles
Knowing not which direction to take

For the stream, it runs both ways

When all is plated in gold, true treasure lies in the vision of those brave enough to face the glare of their own reflection.