Sparks and Snowflakes

Both land on my skin and
Sear this outer layer of mine.
The spark smoulders for a second and
I can smell my flesh burn
Before I feel the prick of pain.
Blood drowns the spark as
I carelessly wipe it away.
A snowflake settles on my skin
And the little bit of soot and blood smear
Across the soft hollow of my hand.
I watch the melted flake run black and red,
A tear dripping from the tiny wound.

Another snowflake, I watch it glitter,
Settled in stillness before it moves again
And gently turns, transforms to water,
A clear drop now, then another.
I’ll pick the scab off my hand, I know,
And have a little scar of pink and tender skin,
More fragile and exposed than the rest of me.
When my hot balm is pressed into the soft snow
It will cool it, strengthen it, and form another
Layer of protection, one grown from ice and fire.

©jsmorgane Nov 2017

Tintagel

The rock soaks into me,
And the winds,
And the thundering waves
Trying to climb up towards me.
And the little yellow flowers,
Not clinging to the cliff
But thriving in adversity.

They soak and sink and change my flesh and bones,
Make my blood sing of a beginning almost remembered.
They starve my past and future, and feed the moment.
They silence, soothe and calm everything that isn’t Now.

Sept 2016 ©jsmorgane