I’m looking at the details.
The smaller picture.
Minutia of goose plume,
downy barbs so sensitive,
they infuriate the shaft
with their always-on
reactivity. The exhale of
draft from the window seam.
Waft of heat from the floor vent
(rusty from lack of attention).
An exasperated sigh, patience
winded by a cosmos seemingly
out of control. It is impossible
to say, sometimes, what motivates
them, these long-fingered tendrils
of outer and inner vane, light (oh,
how light!) and flexible, open to
the idea of breeze, of change, any
swap from the myth of permanence.
This is how ephemeral thought is.
This is where everything begins:
in the flux of cortex and frontal lobe,
in plumaceous barbs with minds of
their own, independent pinions
and wing. It’s physiology, really.
And biology. Let’s call it the science
of feathers. Watch, now, quietly.
The universe is about to take flight.
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Copyright January 15, 2025
Based on Natalie Goldberg’s prompts from "Writing Down the Bones"
Author's note - I think of this poem draft as a multidisciplinary exploration of science and spirituality (probably close to Buddhism), a movement from mediating on something small and prone to activity (like the mind) towards something grander (like the universe). I also see this piece as a metaphor for change, the slightest action prompting reaction, and then suddenly, things are not as they were, the myth of permanence easily shattered.
Posted in Katherine's Coffeehouse, Writing Prompts
