jónsi sang go

jónsi sang go

i thought i was ready to throw off
winter’s weight as soon as spring
peeked from the ground, softened
the stark dark trees, that i too
could again be green and colour
and soft earth, but the cold
deadness clung with suffocating
hands to its post, dug in deep
and obstinate. so i took jónsi on a walk.
out through the sunlit streets, filled
my eyes with petalspetalspetals
all orangeredyellowwhitepink.
the magnolias bursting – branches
once heavy burdened with snow
and ice – now in flight against blue sky
waving their arms adorned (aburst!)
with pinkwhite blossoms, sharing
their glory with the grass below – a sprinkling
of pinkwhite salt seasoning the green.
my feet sang along – starting and stopping,
turning, slowing, lifting (sometimes imagining
in their minds – twirling) and then i found a tree
and sat beneath it when what i really wanted
was to lay on the grass, gazing up

it took a moment, but my feet
talked me into it – “go do”
they sang with jónsi – so i lay back
and the streets were no more –
just me, the tree, the blue and
masses of white cloud creating
a moving landscape beyond
the dark stark branches
sprinkled with leaf buds.
occasionally birds flew past.
and once a dry brown leaf skittered
from the ground up over me
its dead dryness somehow
a part of this simple playful
scene of bluewhitebrown
while i lay, one with the green

“no one knows you, till it’s over”
maybe that means even me.
maybe i’ll be surprised by
who i can be when it’s over.

*inspired by jónsi's album, go.

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