melissaahowells
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its past noon I watch a golden maple leaf fall. I think falling wouldn't be so hard if one had wings if one could simply sift drift down meandering the sky in a cross stitch pattern casually letting some of the stitches unravel til you landed gently. falling for some might be like that. seventeen years ago people fell from the morning sky some holding hands some hesitating swan dives without wings while millions watched over and over again in real time in reel time helpless terrorized. that morning before dawn I recall I dreamed of a great fire and woke up sweating while outside an unexpected early autumn chill swept the air through my open windows. this morning the rain fell and the leaves of the clipped maple tree tumbled below and also struck my bedroom window. below I see how on the pavement they resemble flattened stars their five golden points representing a head, arms, legs the stem, a trailing tail where its path once traced the air. only yesterday evening I'd been looking at images from seventeen years ago their images a tangle of emotions and grief. odd then how last night for once I woke only twice and then somehow slept the last three hours through though not undisturbed again this morning I recall a dream of trailing golden light a sensation of being upside down somersaulting fearfully only to discover that the tips of my very fingers were sprouting wings. I awoke the curtains cast aside from the bedroom window to a golden five-prong maple leaf stuck and struck to the pane. and then an odd thought surfaced one of getting a singular tattoo of an inverted woman gazing upwards and falling her arms spread wide suspended momentarily in a golden light as her stem-like tail trailed behind her small hands becoming wings... (fledgling feathers forming at the fingertips.) I think to myself: "follow through with this..." How like fallen stars of gold they were and we are (I am...) five-pointed stars of maple leaves. inverted people our eyes gazing up beseeching searching for some hope some grace our heaven. ***************** maybe you will not make the connections I made. maybe you will. maybe I need to go back and make edits. this is the result for now...1:45pm PST time/date stamped LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR MELISSA A HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD...AND HOW APROPOS A WORLD LIKE THAT TODAY DOES SEEM. AMEN Vote for this poem |
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