Hello, everyone! I hope you’re all doing well!
So, this week I’ve been having strange dreams that I don’t remember at all. BUT, apparently my subconscious is trying to help me remember them because I keep finding strange notes typed into my phone.
(I know I wrote them half asleep, because it is the only time I misspell every word and don’t bother with grammar.)
Apparently, I started to write poetry in this half-asleep stage.
I refuse to show you the first draft, because it isn’t very readable. After editing and revising it, however, I think it’s up to speed with everything else. 🙂
I probably could have gotten here without going through my subconscious, but really, is any piece of art capable of such a feat?
An avalanche balanced at the cliff like
the fool of the tarot deck—oblivious and joyful
at the thought of a tumble, the beginning of a journey
that would bring an end before a middle.
The future avalanche tottered, edging closer to the place
where the fractured cliff hung in balance.
A small shake—a death in the family—the avalanche
was a storm that didn’t know it was waiting to happen.
The world shook, and the avalanche moved away from
danger. Fear will stop before the end of the world will,
will stop the avalanche from becoming what it needed to be
though the avalanche denied it with a tremor made of gravel.
-the avalanche is still waiting in the tarot deck
I hope you enjoyed this poem! Thank you for reading! 🙂
Have a lovely rest of your day!