Tuesday, April 7, 2015

NPM: Pour Out (Day 7)

A small update among the pages of poetry. We didn't get the job we were hoping for. My heart is broken in some ways, and at peace in others. There is a reason for everything, you know?




Pour Out - Written January 9, 2015, Revised April 7, 2015

In that breath which held
more solitary twilight
than every exhalation of
these twenty and six years,
I stilled at the precipice
of the parched desert,
my body merely flesh,
my heart merely stone.
And I would have perished:
this is documented truth.
But sincere sorrow expressed
by the simplest of minds
begged for me to stay
in all my colorful forms.
A request only for me,
reaching mournfully
to the pitches of the sand,
uprooted my soul
from the unloving earth.
As the horizon set ablaze
with scarlet curses
I poured out a song
of oceans and rivers,
I emptied myself
of the darkness and blues
which had been carried
for that very purpose.
The knowledge of that weight
was somehow not suffocating
but freeing, for no longer
was my heart an anchor
but a melody rising
on the desert wind.

No comments:

Post a Comment