Windy Day at Fingal Head

Lying on red peacock feathers
drawn into the softness of my pillow
I slept in the memory of painting the wind at Fingal Head
on those cliffs where my mind was tossed out to the raging sea
and my frustration pounded the rocks on its return

there caught in the space of a dreamtime
I withdrew from the darkness of the forest
with the crimson leaves dripping
coldness on my imperfections

but never my heart

impressions of sunlight hold me
creating patchworks on the water beneath the mangroves
blanket stitched in warm comfort
the salty mineral freshness so familiar
I empathise with the ibis
scouring the muddy shores for sustenance
I fossick for a sunlit jewel – a hologram that disappears
as suddenly as it is found

some colours need to be caged in black ink

and now I feel the scream hovering
ears covered in the thick swirls of reverberating obscurity
wrenching sounds so terrifying
like the moorhen protecting her chicks from the unknown
I charge into it and wait for the release

For dversepoets openlink


11 thoughts on “Creativity

  1. def intense and vivid…grab hold those colors and reign it in with your pen…impressions of sunlight hold me, nice…dripping imperfections…i like your spin here today…nice…

  2. Some poems help to channel the emotion of the writer out to the world, and this poem succeeds at this, with its images of raging seas, crimson leaves, and birds scouring the lake floor for morsels of hope, and that final lingering scream ready for release.

  3. I love your writing ~ always wonderful powerful write! As I unpacked your words I moved thru a full range of emtions from conflict to understanding ~ allowing nature & our own interactions to be reflected ~ leads to understanding of a time & feeling ~Thank you!

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