Tuesday, 11 June 2024

The Prelude

 You are the slippery morning dew on the leaves

The premonition of events to come

The moist coaxing out the sun to take up the seat in the skies,

Charge us, and make a living


You are the thing before the thing

The announcement, save-the-date, the call-to-action

The trembling beneath the feet of elephants 

As they make their way to higher ground before the storm arrives


You are the impenetrable acorn

Tipping its cap and winking 

An accomplice harbouring secrets of great oaks to burgeon

Whose leaves will block out the sun when tempers flare, burnings and blindings ensue


You are the grabbing of the coat before taking a step over the threshold

The preview, trailer, foreshadowing

The clink of flutes in a celebratory toast 

Before the rivulets of champagne meander through the gullet


Looking at you bubbling over with potentialities

I wonder, if like a puerile sneeze observed, 

You will flatten to the background like a child neglected

Into the eternal silence of a firecracker rained on

Never entering into your fullness  

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