Restless One

I Am fancying snow-flakes.

I Am imaging faces, swirling fingerprints,

mapping lines on human hands.

I Am tracing family lineage: lines of blood,

spinning, weaving, cutting fates.

I'm nervous. 

This cat's cradle keeps Me busy

so I don't chew My nails.

I Am twirling galaxies around My fingers; 

doodling codes on D.N.A.

Don't call Me frivolous;

there's method in My madness.

There's still hope.

But I'm restless, excited.

This planet hasn't come around

the way I'd hoped.

It will come about, and tack in My wind,

when the poles shift, or maybe sooner.

My fingers are itching the way they do

when something totally unexpected

is about to happen!

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018