This is more of an evening posting thing. Tuesday night postings if you will.
Recently I have been having dreams in which I feel as though I am watching someone else's thoughts. They seem so foreign; the kind I feel would never come from my mind. Most are stories.
I remember seeing this event one time or perhaps it was a story I once was told, or something that I had said, or maybe I dreamt it...
I Did Not Witness the Flower, nor Did I Witness the Felling
Sitting on a patch of green at a muddy park. Sitting, staring, things here and there caught my eye.
At times I lost my train of thought, stared into open space, staring, staring…
My memory forgets the second I saw the two little sprouts of green wiggling out the mud. Those two little ones left a shadow in my heart forever darkened with love and desire...
I wondered if they came from the same organism. Siblings maybe struggling for their own space to consume; their location and relation trivial.
As I watch with an empty mind I see them reach and grow
Leaves, stems expanding pushing air
It takes me a slight thought to identify their varying patterns of behavior
One sweet but proud
Looped and twisted
Lovely moments that hypnotized my subconscious
I was soon pulled into its dance
Reaches up for the heaven veering a sudden left then to the ground
Loop back up
Then the cycle again
Then the cycle again with a varying variance that produces the same but a singular event
So caught up with the instant, so focused and close
I pull back
It is a pile of loops and curves, smooth and sexy
Image of its potential not finished but promising
As my eyes lust for a touch that's when I notice a peculiar surface change
It comes very slowly
They creep out with no pride or conscious
Slowly piercing the space around them
Two inch thorns
Red and splendid
Sharp and threatening in their shape
I marvel at this thorny bush
A creature so perfectly dangerous but inviting
Inviting in a sense that one could get lost in its complications and its sudden revelations
Its growth slows so my attention turns
The other seedling is a seedling no more
It begins its towering ascent into the sky above
Expanding its limbs any direction it can envision
Any it can invade
This tree a faction off of a contemporary of the bush
With two phenomenons, my mind well occupied, I have no thoughts of my own
Just reflections of what I think I see…
Barriers are broken
Personal space becomes a place for tension
As I stare time, really, I feel is lost
Overlapping and repeating I see no distinction
A thorny vine creeps up the tree
Or are there three?
Movement is fast as I realize what occurs
These juvenile things with recklessness jump at a point to interact
One reaches out, the other up
One leans in close, the other around
Winding, grasping, hugging, knotting, and flowing
This dance seems only to fulfill an intention to thrive
A single goal
A feeling that I mustn’t interrupt overcomes me
Mainly because of the curiosity I have to see where this will end
From the thrusts here and there, both seem stressed
Both seem much matured
A tree bounded by a thorny bush pushing out adding tension as it grows out and upwards as trees usually do
Rings on top of rings
Layers of cells
Layers of cells
I left that scene of which I bore witness.
I had things to do. It was getting cold, and I had forgotten my sweater.
I left them.
One tall, almost too high to see. The other dense, with buds that were ready and willing to show the light, climbing as high as they want.
Forever anchored to earth with their relative distance.
Forever growing high and wide, and if willing, down and out.
I still replay it in my head hoping I can extrapolate what it meant and where it would have gone. It’s exhausting because of the infinite possibilities and the tendency for memory to fade and warp details. Sometimes I see similar creatures doing similar things. In any case the event still exist in myself.