frustrated poet

under a tree under quiet careful i waited
when words like birds stirred above my head
'til they trembled and fell, as leaf-stars landing
a multitude, still & solid, but unwilling to be held.
i watched them lay tenderly, delicate rustling like
old friends take delight in small intimate gathering
each one bursting with joy and heartfelt expression
they colored unheard-of glories upon the black dirt
like love stories paint pages beneath its black ink.
But then the air sighed - with wind's heavy breath -
& stars and spirit split leaving barely a glimpse.
fierce and uncontrolled, wild beauty of a dance
blown as birds away, swiftly romanced.
and i wanted my word-stars
obediently to stay
that another sad sitting
perhaps gray unbelieving
might too be raised up, from black
dirt to know color, Spirit, life and birth.

*I have no idea why this poem is in the shape of a cup. It was an accident actually that i sort of just, went with!