The Wayward Spirit
M. L. Redford
the wayward spirit wafts in
through the window when the patterns of weeks, months passed, at last,
let go and shift
she moves about the room like Franny Glass making one or two things
flutter a bit, and is gone
out past the opposite shoulder as I turn in to see what I hear
to notice things
in the room which were always there but hadn’t been noticed for weeks
or maybe months
and which had obviously been there for a purpose, staring through the books
on the shelf to find
a forgotten bookmark, an absent fold, maybe a latterdaymexicanpink
autumnal ritual –
seven parts revelationinitiation and fifteen parts flutterbybestowal –
curiouser and curiouser
are the ways of the spirit: if I follow, will I flutter, will I perch or will I fall?
either way I’ll find
the pink of gist and need to meditate before I waft or get stolen
but the spirit talks
of grounding, without talking, for she is no airy/faeree: the meaning disappears
the more you look
but in looking at the unfindability you discover all the meaning for to see:
body, soul and beauty
but no room at the inn for language, ‘you can speak a hundred languages
if you want but
you’re never as wise as the illiterate who speaks with love in her heart’
she says, without a single word
but thought of a hundred languages smaller than the stars which float away;
the language of Waywarduese
butterflies about all over the points, and all of those points held
in one wing-spread,
colourful and puckering hold, sprinkled and dlappled like rain
Can I have it?
Is it for me?
It’s for me?
It’s for me!
You stole it from me!
I’ll be generous and
share it with you
if you let me keep it.
4 thoughts on “It Just Happens”
not bad …
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was feeling sad and really sad and came on here maybe cual of the notice of sudden traffic. Of course I end up here.
Your words so enchanted me. I understood something human súper-still-human and laughed out loud cuz there was nothing else to do.
Now it makes me weep
Perhaps just theses weeks
I’m really glad of you!
My dear Wayward, please never forget, your eyes-wide-open ebullience … is GOLD, even if it is not strategic and full-stopped enough to hold value in other currencies;
your enthusiasm has more than once lifted my droopy efforts
LikeLiked by 1 person
How are you doing?
I was just spending a few minutes here to be encouraged by your words.
I don’t mind being dipped in gold every once in a wile. Ware and tare rubs it off after a while.
Can’t wait to see what you are up to. I’ve been doing mostly other stuff. I dont know where to even start on here, so that’s a challenge.
I’m thinkful for how you make my world more real, shinier wide open with room to think feel and be. There’s no one else like you for me.
I appriciate your being here, and here for me.
I hope your holiday is as sweet as life can be.