As sensible as a jolt of cold water ~ Laurie King
If anyone is sensible, it is
the poet, releasing logic and reason
feeling into mysteries with no desire.
While others pace with whips and
cages, we gape with new eyes,
run our fingers over the bumps
and wrinkles. My mother cries,
did you ever? at every anomaly.
Strange and bad synonyms
to delineate edges of the comfort
zone. Slightly mad and just plain
weird, we scribble our visions,
chatter with children and lean into
animals, whistle back to birds
and gasp as fairies flit our
peripheries. We zoom in
deep wonder. We live in uncertainty.
Thrumming into living clouds and
quivering forests. Seeing being.
The lake breathes and undulates.
Tiny ones dance and hop and run
and fly! We look into
unknowable as the divine
celebrates what cannot be named.
Written for a dverse prompt to “write in the 1st or 3rd person of your own experiences (real or imagined) or your witnessing mental health issues. Or if you prefer, base it on a poem which depicts living with, or alongside, ‘madness’ – and don’t forget to reference it!