Storm stewing above dry dunes
Black billowing mega monument
Anticipation thick in the air
Scanning the sky for strikes
That’ll lead to the fulgurite
Movement frozen in the sand
– — – — – — – — – — – — – –
This arced out at me from an old journal that I was reading over.
Always fun to find these frozen experiences from my past. The joy of journaling.
Though I’ve noticed that pieces have a habit of shifting with time. Never provoking the exact emotions that laid the words. The distance between the person that I was and who I am now shifts with accumulated understanding, changing my perception. This habit of recording creates something like a dialogue with my past, and this reciprocation iterates ideas from the roots of the self. It’s nourishing.
I also find myself going back and squeezing in commentary to past journal entries. And again in the future these are bound to provoke more dialogue. Something like buried treasure for me to dig up later on when needed.
Jared
Maybe I just don’t have enough patience in reading poetry, but something about the succintness of this one appeals to me.
Comment by Jackie — March 4, 2010 @ 5:55 pm
That one was written down without much tweaking. Just kinda came to me in its entirety, but never thought it full enough to be finished at the time. But when I read back over it, I thought shiny.
Comment by Jared — March 4, 2010 @ 10:22 pm