Billowy slenders wisp toward the sun;
fingerlings of sky, teach me;
of my frosted thoughts
notions of vision-dreamer unattained;
frustration’s mark,
cold and dark
am I.
Winter slenders,
depth filled strength
flexing in whisper’s breath;
tickling the sun,
filtering through frozen mist;
living, you are.
Teach me,
in the marrow of your alive,
resting in your stillness
my exhaustions caressed;
revived into the gasping
waters; soaking me whole.
CKS
paint much love always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower