The Gingko’s Tale


Leaves like little fans
Or green butterflies settling on stems
As sunlight on bright wings
Yesterdays that flutter past
My window.

Startled Heraclitus in streams of change
Sees Parmenides grasp a stolen current
Where languishing wings can’t decay green summer
Held fast in the eddy of my gaze
Caught in rivulets of pain
Till You, my Lord, come again.

4 thoughts on “The Gingko’s Tale

    1. Anytime at all. I can relate to poetry being hit or miss. Some days the words pour out of me and others I feel like I’m forcing it. But there is always time to revise later on. As long as you’re writing, that’s the most important thing! 😀


    2. An excellent strategy! Write expecting to do several – make that countless – drafts and you won’t feel the irrational pressure to get it right the first time. It’s not a matter of low expectations but rather battling the self-defeatingly high expectation of perfectionism. The bete noir of amateurs like myself.


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