Dewdrops in the Ocean

I close my eyes
And the dewdrops upon my palate
Rise, like an ocean left unattended
On hot stove
Left to seethe and boil
Fold and uncoil;
Echoing towards an inconsequential eternity
Where nothing rhymes
Beneath the repeating waves
Washing themself at the shore
At the feet of a silent, silent kingdom
Rooted in reminiscence
Of a homemade horizon promised
Upon an unpromised path
There the shriveled hearts sprout as mushroom
In an endless cortege
Moving in stillness
Like taste upon the tip of tongue
And snail upon the lips of spine
An ode to the essential
Both the dirt and the divine

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

5 thoughts on “Dewdrops in the Ocean”

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