Thoughts
Some thoughts are dangerous
as June bears and berries,
awakening from a long slumber;
while the plump red fruit
hang low from the bush,
and lure the eye with promise,
those are the same ones
bear cubs cut their teeth on.
Best to skirt the dark edge,
avoid the sweet ones altogether
so as not to be eaten whole
by your hungry thoughts.
Perhaps there are no bears
and berries lurking in the bush,
nothing in mind more
dreadful than a lone straw
beast to fend off black birds,
stabbed between
rows of ripe yellow wheat
as long and grainy as the sky,
but I, I will cling tight
to my can of bear spray
and my bent stick
if ever I find myself alone
in thought.
~ Rob K. Omura
Robert K. Omura lives in Calgary, Alberta, where he lives from oil plumes, surrounded by vistas and all the trappings of modern living. He prefers to spend his days hopping mountain ridges in the Rockies, where there is nothing else to consider by the next step and the majestic views, and sometimes he even dabs the wet ink and ties words on to lines. His fiction and poetry appears or is forthcoming in numerous literary journals, ezines, and anthologies including the New York Quarterly. He is a 2009 Pushcart nominee. Sometimes he works on his novel, and at other times, he drinks coffee, sighs and wonders when he’ll get back to work on his novel.
Hey Rob,
I thought that was your writing — I liked how this weaved in and out as a metaphorical humouresque — imagine if thoughts had action at a distance with meaning being mean snarling in a scream — a shamanism with words where as above so in you is the play — I’d say if thoughts had bears ‘n berries you’d have to sing and slap your hands to let them know you’re coming down the mountain — I actually had that happen: my grrlfriend and I took a hike up to mystery lake. On our way down, just before sunset the black bears were out eating blueberries — so I spontaneously started singing and slapping my hands just to let them know I was around — they’d look at me and move out of my way — I find thoughts to often be intrusive so I treat them as uninvited guests; ignoring them seems to make them go away — nice flight of fantasy write Rob
Wow – that’s a keeper, Rob. Might have to hang that one on my wall of wisdom.
I love your writing.
Dymph