Monday, January 31, 2011

ethereal traveler

The trees shoot through the ground. Their branches glistening like fried and bent electrical wire. Stopped short and grounded by gravities charge. Scintillating leaves startle the mocking birds and send them to flight, signaling the coming of cooler winds.
Winter came with an awkward step this year. The cold days come and go. Birds on their journey south join their nests and flocks far sooner than usual. Not even cold rains turns them away. I'm not sure if above this air we breathe, up where only birds and planes and dreams fly, if there is a sense of rapture. Or if the polished veneer of the vanishing blue sky mock the eye like a quick handed magician, while the ionosphere neglects mother nature's nurturing side with the fury only Greek god's may know. A space where the air that drops and lifts its currents off the inexorable wings of determination where nothing is superfluous.