joannebest











{January 9, 2015}   500

snowangel1

i could sit here forever

as it nags at me, just a whisper really but

an unrelenting nag,

‘it’s all here’,

that siren’s call (it’s so beautiful)

‘come and get it’

and oh, do i want to,

dig deep and hold on tight then,

release,

explode in a burst of genius or

a smooth float down a lazy river,

one just as satisfying as the last

and the next,

it’s just this one, this particular now,

a sky high mountain i built with my own little hands

but i can climb,

my fingers flew before and they will fly again,

for now they slide along,

landing wherever and whenever they will,

not quite thought-less,

more thought-light,

a pressure-less kind of pressure,

it’s funny how you can see so clearly

through the early morning snowflakes

when you can hear again

snowangel

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