It woke you to see
suddenly
it flooded in so instantly from
where it had been brewing in
the darkness down below.
Part of the lens wipes
clearly
and you see the view now instantly is
so much more romantic than the
Vaselined lens showed.
You in a rush see
Mercy
had let you to be its donkey and
you brayed the words most
sweetly from your fingers and your keys.
The words that seemed most
urgently
were dripping the most honey
from their letters as though spoken
by a hundred thousand bees.
But the honey the most
drippingly
felt in your mind most trippingly like
flowering someone's garden from
you watering your weeds.
And you wonder at the
mystery
that flows through everything you see
that death does not speak last but rebirths
life from on its knees.
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Beautiful...
ReplyDeletethe hundred thousand bees
ReplyDeletedrippingly
trippingly
delicious
a poetic marker this one :)
You ROCK. Did I ever tell you that?
ReplyDeleteThank you for this: "That death does not speak last but rebirths
life from on its knees."
Beautiful!
Barbara - thank you :)
ReplyDeleteKel - ooh, yeah, maybe. This is what comes out at 5am when I can't sleep.
Erin - likewise. Yeah, or at least, that is what I cling to when I can't see evidence. But yet, when you start seeing the life that comes out of death everywhere, you can't stop seeing it. I wish I'd been able to see this *before* I walked out on my marriage :\
Absolutely what Erin said, Sue. Oh, and that last reply of yours to Erin hit home... Bless you, distant one.
ReplyDeleteTesting testing
ReplyDelete