Eagle sails the tranquil heights captaining impregnable thermals serene, content, alone distant from life and love and pain wrapped in a safe blue cocoon nothing can touch her and she touches nothing but... from afar she has seen Wolf has studied him his powerful body thick warm fur compassionate eyes and wondered what it would be like to enter his orbit would... he stroke her chilled feathers touch her with kindness speak to her of love of need of want of forever build her a strong nest that could withstand any storm and the drought of long days or... would he lure her in lull her with honeyed words calm her with knowing touches bewitch her beguile her break her then tear out her heart devour her cooling body and spit out the hollow bones so... Eagle slows her descent perches in the thorny tree above the watching Wolf stares into his eyes into his heart into his soul but she can’t see beyond all her fucked-up yesterdays so she waits, praying for clarity ©2023 jai free verse
Image by Jaime Orejuela from Pixabay
On the Fringe of Darkness 
Wow, you really got to the heart of things there Jai, a brilliant poem.
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Thank you, Lorraine. When it’s been broken too many times, trust is hard to come by.
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So damn beautiful. One of your strongest works that I’ve read yet. 🖤
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That came off arrogant of me. I meant to say this is one of my many favorites of yours that I am collecting. 🖤
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I didn’t think your comment arrogant; I took it as a compliment. ☺️🖤
You are collecting my poems? Now, that’s an even bigger compliment.
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I have a Word document with my favorites. 🖤
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Aw…that’s touching, Rann. ☺️🖤
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Thank you, Rann. It’s one of my favorites I’ve written. It flowed out effortlessly, like the best ones do. 🖤
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So true. I had a comment a few days ago, a really nice compliment, and they asked me about writing. I tried to explain ‘flow’ to them, the art of feeding your subconscious and then hoping it will reciprocate. When I consciously write, it’s quite a bit harder and definitely not as good. 🖤
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Same here. I think my best poetry is written in free verse, but I also enjoy the process of crafting one to fit a specific form. In a way, it’s like working a puzzle. 🖤
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There’s a music video I have somewhere with a young black artist talking about a psychedelic experience that preceded his ability to create higher-level musical art. He’s genuinely thrilled to share that this experience led to him having the ability to tap into the shared creative universe. He doesn’t elaborate any further, though I wish he had.
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Stephen King admitted he wrote many of his books while high on cocaine, a habit he stopped some time ago. Maybe that’s why his books stopped being as good as they once were.
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Wow, I never realized that. I still want to read his book ‘On Writing’. He’s had a formidable effect on my personal writing style, and I wouldn’t mind more.
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I read it years ago; it’s quite entertaining as well as informative. I need to revisit it.
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