Crazy Real

the official blog of author and poet Jennifer Wilson

Month: April 2020

Seeking

Have you seen me, Sun? Now tell me the truth
Just where did I go now, and what did I do?

Have you seen me, Trees? Did I walk this way?
Have you asked the Birds? Could anyone say?

Have you seen me, Willow? And starry Sky?
Did I lie underneath you, by and by?

Oh tell me, someone, where have I been seen?
Am I lost or am I right where I should be?

This face is not mine, not this darkening scowl
these lackluster eyes, this time-furrowed brow

I’ll shuck off this dry husk, this mantle of grief
to search for myself and kill time, that old thief

I’ll creep through the umbra that shifts on the stair
and let all the moonbeams play in my hair

I’ll splash in the puddles and hum with the bees
I’ll visit the flowers and climb all the trees

I’ll go to the ocean and ride in the waves,
hike through the forests and peer into caves

sing through the meadows of flowers so sweet
feel the grass bending there, under my feet

remember to cartwheel and tumble and trip
to giggle and dance, to twirl and to skip

remember that dandelions are made for wishes
And eyelashes good for those fluttering kisses

I’ll marvel at rainbows, seashells and art
storing their mysteries deep in my heart

And when I am full of the wealth of the earth
I’ll rewind these years, rediscover, rebirth

now dancing, now singing, remembering how
to bring all my yesterdays into the now

to soften hard truths with the gentlest of dreams
extending my hand to the future unseen

and dreading no more the fierce action of time
for the moment is now, and the now is all mine.

Romantic

Can cynics tumble into love?
Can skeptics rush like fools?
Can doubters put the blinders on
and logic overrule?

Do pessimists surrender and
allow themselves to fall?
Does any stalwart lover climb
and breach their lofty wall?

Do scorners ever find themselves
aflutter and agog?
What do they do to push on through
and navigate love’s fog?

I cannot guess a mocker’s heart
I only know my own
and when the songs of love do start
my sense is overthrown

I rush and tumble, blind and dumb,
fall further with each kiss
Whatever they may call it, I
can only call it bliss

So call me silly and unwise
‘twill only be in vain
I never will resist love’s pull
romantic I’ll remain.

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