Saturnine Wayfarer

It seems like whenever I want to post my poetry here it's a whole lot easier to just embed the associated images from Instagram. Writing even a few lines each day has helped to keep away the looming, monstrous guilt for being creatively unproductive.

On the bright side I have felt physically healthier, making progress through nutrition, running (who am I?) and more meditation. Truly though, I have to find some exercise alternative that doesn't make me feel like my lungs are bleeding, or make me want to steal a younger person's knees. Or at least the knees of a person who has never curled or played Ultimate Frisbee, because apparently even non-contact sports have deeply offended my delicate sensibilities.

I'm all about the unity with yoga, but at this point it's really more of a regulated stretching than anything as fluid and mesmerizing as I imagine all others' practices to be. Perhaps some day I will finally make use of my Geocaching account and be a bona fide treasure hunter.

But for now I remain a saturnine wayfarer who stops often to admire the shade of each slightly different blade of grass.

Citrine daylily
Champion of the fair sun
Ambrosial coquette

Clear moon jellyfish
Aurelia aurita
Fragile sea bird prey

Irish Loop driving
Odd lonely cabins stand proud
Shadows break away

Clear wave over wave
Salt air follows sea stone tide
Polished plane of mind

Two Tree Mountain sky
Lava clouds and Grace roll by
Circling on high