Paramagnetic Poetry by Krista

Behind me there are books of poems crocheted purses, headbands, blankets I have held goddesses oy I was clover, medic, ground cover honey sweet bumble dreams fixing nitrogen for the cash crops to come listening to the rain hit the roof with a resonance that to me is the sweetest of bells the hush swish spray of tires on wet pavement the rhythm of the drops a soundscape i pull around me like a wool blanket

household ghosts are born of thoughts around them culture from here culture from there the neighbour's nightmare my lock of hair air elemental skinned in the adrenaline of a life parallel horror flick watch Babadook where someone died and the kikimorae sticks

I have been the bliss where flesh comes together leaving hope in the afterglow skin drenched in etheral shine bursting with light nestled together my body now a star where life is beginning

I want a kiss that feels like coming home I want a hand in mine that is like the sap scented breeze of mid spring just past Ostara but sometimes like the clear winter gales at Iona or the rain driving pelting winds that flurry through the sheet metal sofit I want a love that is like a favourite sweater or a favourite mountain or a favourite tree I want a courtship that is like a 14km walk on a cool day that refrains from more precipitation than drizzle

arms linked under clouds of pink sakura season sap is green on the breeze a chartreuse coloured perfume the brown of old leaf soon hidden as brightest lime sings from what used to be cold grey twigs skeletal underbrush now a valanced curtain rioting is glowing fey peridot like banker's lamps adorning branches willow branches glowing golden in preparation of unleashing leafy curtains alder branches gleaming more cinnabar the grey of winter gone as more greens join the visual chorus each hue a note that sings the season round the wheel birdsong and blooms now bring colour to every moment this is Spring

wistful under the blue skies elated as cumulus clouds billow beautiful fluffy towers wistful under the clouds of pink sakura filling branches with delicate petals stark is the beauty of magnolias richly pink on naked filigree twig bright is the yellow cup of daffodil against the emerald grass this is the feast that nourishes soul causes heart to unfurl like a fiddlehead