Kneeling

Grave, grim, and grey

Here come the cycles and smiles of the sun.

I avoid it; stay in the comfort of the shade

Where the honeysuckles weep for attention

And the ivy is grieving more than ever.

If the moon guides the seas

Then the sun directs our hearts -

Where our pulse meets our fingerprints

How it travels via vessels and rivers of powerful silence

From our fraying edges to our smooth throats.

It keeps us moving.

I notice daisies,

Growing in-between the planted plates of concrete;

They remind me of my dreams, because I tend to try and stay awake later, and later, and later and-

So that I might catch a glimpse of you, in wisps and waves of bending light

Out of the corner of my eye.

It's been two springs...

But wait, we'll freeze in time again

Here comes the sun

In its endless spins and twirls.

We liked how it would meet our eyes and turn them aquamarine.

The swampy waters creep up to kiss the feet of angels' statues.

They're all unknowingly stuck in a loop of seasons

Of pigeon shit and nesting, blossoming pairs

With only broody, winter chills to remind them that they are still living.

If you were a worm, I'd let you dig yourself into the soil of the richest earth

And I'd swear to keep the depths free from fences or eggshells

So you could crawl and burrow blind

While still being loved and free, every bit of the way.

~

Author's Note: This one's a bit morose and grim - I'm genuinely surprised, considering the theme was "Spring", and the quote "Here comes the sun" by The Beatles. But, I suppose the tone is unexpected and a bit unpredictable, which is why I really loved the freedom of this prompt - I'll be coming back for the next one!

I hope you enjoyed, and as always, thank you for reading :)

- Red