More life imitating art
Or spirituality
As I haul limbs and branches
From another tree
Rapping the tin roof
A threat to me
When hurricane season
Huffs and puffs to
Blow the house down
On the roof
Roomie chain saws
Temp is 52 degrees
And thinned-out Florida blood
Wants to brumate
With gekkos, frogs and snakes
My job is to haul the booty
Into the ferns of
A shivering swamp
And although there is no mirror
Or reflecting pond
I see myself
As others may
A walking-talking
Picture off the Smith-Waite deck
Ten of Wands
Carrying ten wands
All of equal size and state
And my mind flashes to the meaning:
“Stress, responsibility, problems
Duty, drudgery, obligation
Taken for granted
Keep going”
But why am I smiling
Must be the time of life
The visual imitates art
But I’m happy in the wind
Touching the wood
Slouching through Jurassic-like ferns
Burdock stuck to my black tights,
Fleece hoodie and tunic
I’m happy!
Sure, we’re facing death by virus
Sure, we’re in a Ghost House slide
To who knows where
Fighting the despair
As businesses close
Loneliness engulfs
Politics seem sinister
But the Earth is constant
Putting out green shoots
Scents from muddy terrain
And windy, cold days
To remember when the humidity
Reaches 100 percent
I will remember this winter forever
As I find my connection with woods and swamp
With cranes and gentle rains
With dogs howling at the street sirens
With me picking up the ukulele
Playing for the crows
As my spirit grows
I will remember this winter forever….
© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: 10+Wands