we were in the pitch black
hiding between the hunched trees and thick brush
- an audience for the crossroads
flinching at every light from the main road
greeted by shallow muddy water from a spring rain
we had heard the lord moving his furniture
we heard the frogs talking about us
and the sound of splashing paired with a ringing in my ears
we set the tealight candles on the hood of his Jeep
the angle made the wax glide to the headlights
millers and mosquitos circled us and when tired -
they rested on our arms and accompanied us for the night
I taught him how to cast a circle,
how to call out to the elements,
how to see light come from your finger tips,
how to respect nature and it's limits
we read psalms to his necklace
and dabbed it with a homemade oil
it's family tradition almost -
to know the magic of these mountains and the stories from the soil
YOU ARE READING
Vital
PoetryFeatured on @WattpadPoetry's reading list Stygian Skies and @CoffeeCommunity's Cappuccino reading list. A poetry book that trembles with fear, explodes with rage, and loves with everything it has. It tries to make sense of the past and explores trau...
