I prefer the night
the smooth skin of it
the deceptiveness,
the savory peace that comes with
restlessness
there's not a flowering field
nor an ascending plateau
nor roiling ocean of stars
I've not plied
with my mind
I paint them all differently
the moon is sliver of austere green
the sky, navy-blue and shimmering
with iridescent light
strings of pearls
the outlines of ancient tales
of long dead Goddesses and Gods
I'd never be pale nor waning
but round and flush-pleasing
a transfiguration of altering
re-framed within the limitless
heart and mind of a hopeful child
its best to be untamed
and to let my hair winnow in the air
and unravel the pleasure that comes
with knowing I am always wild
I know of nothing
like the boxing of the ears
and the means of holding back
with leashes, bridles, bits and jeers
I've developed a singular language
of my own
I've built my nest
I borrowed nothing
it could be a lair within the ground
an aerie in the clouds
wherever I am
will be home.
LEGAL copyright for this poem 8:53PM PST May 4, 2021/TIME DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
NOT QUITE SATISFIED WITH TITLE. THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE.
MAY RETHINK SOME OF IT LATER...IS A SORTA/KINDA MANIFESTO
