How did you know I was reaching for clouds?
How did you guess I was swirling in a vortex
How did you fathom I was begging for hands
to blast sunbeams through eyes of god.
While my ink went downward-torrenting
you sent a seabird’s keening prayer;
an upward bend in every note
finding hope I’d lost somewhere.
Aloft I climbed on a raft of kelp,
then clung to a whale’s green halo;
as the prayed-for angel’s fins
brought me to seas more shallow.
The light played in the oyster waves,
the evening beach a-washing;
and soft I landed, cold skin kissed
by warm rays you’d been tossing.
A gift from far, a wished-upon star
A poem as light for the heart,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Thank you for your kind art.
Edit 2020-03-11 08:??: Process notes: This poem riffed off a post called “I Hope,” by amazing WP artist/poet Francisco Bravo Cabrera. Find that beautiful poem here: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/3492372/posts/2619416594 – however, that is not the only influence. It’s an ode to the various beautiful and inspiring posts and interactions I’d recently read and experienced on WordPress. If I “liked” or commented *with* you (not just “at” you) in the past couple of days, you are likely the subject of this poem. :))
Just before publishing this, I was writing some private turbulent things, all the while yearning for the “pink cloud” state of early sustained sobriety – a state of mind where one feels high on life. All the while knowing that in order to achieve that, my next phase will eventually be sustained digital sobriety. In the meantime, I mostly try to remain accountable for my online actions. If I see it and read it, I usually “like” it in situ. (i.e. I aim to not lurk nor strategize, nor hide, to imply I’m offline when I’m in fact “on.”)
Image: artist unnamed; via Wallup.net
Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Auvergne, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎