certainly if an animal of even the most keen sense were to inhibit his soul, it would find that through his eyes, nature's spirit is infinitely more abundant. how ravishing is the boy who's cocooned in expanding rapture for mother earth (the way a bee's infatuation with flowers flourishes with the kiss of each new larkspur, rosemary, or aster) so much so he has become her? brother earth: evergreens envy the longevity of his bones, for their marrow will mottle the resplendent mountains, their strength will harden boulders, and their color will skirt the edges of waves far after the surrounding skin has perished. if nothing else, i am certain that at death i shall metamorphosise into a nimbus, marveling and weeping at his splendor eternally.
♠
do you guys view earth as having a feminine or masculine essence? or something else?
YOU ARE READING
EARTHFLOW
Poetryboyhood, withering beneath a wild sky (#37 in poetry 12/11/17) © vangohs, 2017
