Open Poetry #37 |
And I cry |
Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
I see no beggar man with beard and old trench coat and hear no bell a-ringing to announce the end of life but verily someone said, “Prepare and be ready” and so I threw it all away that day I said, “Okay”. But after the throw-away I find I’m still possessed of a need and a desire that I don’t understand because it clings and it sings and it shouts internally until at night it whispers and whispers roll like thunder does from this lifetime now and on into the next ~ and I cry. Carry me, carry me, but I don’t want the weight of the plain and simple ordinary unrequited love that distorts the very fiber of soul’s complexity and leaves it like a dull and grotesque effigy from this lifetime now and on into the next ~ and I cry. Now, hear me, hear me, tears aren’t the issue here but the well of love from which they come that faces to eternity head bowed and bewildered at the enormity and magnitude of its capacity to feel and I cry, and I cry, because I cannot count the many lifetimes yet to come of need and desire. Helen / 25 April 2006 |
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© Copyright 2006 Helen - All Rights Reserved |
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