By Jonel Abellanosa
If I discovered earlier the mind
also holds its own pen, I’d have seen
in my younger days the world
a linguistic construct, birdflight
and the tree’s open arms shaped
by the mind’s own syntax. Light
is longhand to petals, my pleasant
surprise a verb the mouse used
as moonlight weaves through grass.
Not contented with description,
I’ve to let insight fill the tube.
Between the door and my return,
night is a body of texts to the pen
-wielder between my ears.
Jonel Abellanosa lives in Cebu City, the Philippines. He is a nature lover, an environmental advocate, and loves all animals, particularly dogs. His poetry collections include “Meditations” (Alien Buddha Press), “Songs from My Mind’s Tree” and “Multiverse” (Clare Songbirds Publishing House), “50 Acrostic Poems” (Cyberwit, India), “In the Donald’s Time” (Poetic Justice Books and Art), and his speculative poetry collection “Pan’s Saxophone” (Weasel Press). He loves to self-study the sciences.
