Ingressive
Clouds always roll in, but
Somehow, the sun keeps shining
there is day, then a day, and a day
with no nights to speak of in between
except for twilight trickling
in a sliver of time.
The suspense is ongoing,
constant like the clouds, without release
a forever lack of resolution.
a constant need of satisfaction.
I walk miles on well-grooved paths
I make my way across untrampled
territory. And in my head, every song
I have ever sung.
Heavy and singular. I plod through
thinly covered volcanic soil
the color of shit
and grasses as blond as hay
the earth beneath me
is spongy but forgiving.
Egressive
A solitary beauty, even when not alone
An exploration of charted lands
A joy of discovery in waters
and hills thousands of years old
A unique experience in a nation of many,
with ancient lives
Buried within its molten depths.
Sometimes, you must dance when the music
is just the wind through reeds, birdsong,
and the lapping of waters at crumbling shores.
Sometimes, your dance is for no one
but the mountains around you,
the cloud and smoke-filled skies above you.
Sometimes, all movement is dance.
DeMisty D. Bellinger is the author of the poetry chapbook Rubbing Elbows, the full-length collection Peculiar Heritage, and the novel New to Liberty. She lives in New England with her husband and twin daughters.
