long scarves color of sapphire left behind
salamanders crawl through the portals:
touched by light …combusted
turned into ashes, blown by wind.
cold watery eyes silent witnesses
lost in fields.
rising sun dries tears of the night.
steam flows through the pores of my skin:
rises, evaporates…
the roots absorb one last drop of moisture.
the flowers, innocent,
sinfully celebrate my pain
and the truth, seeds of new beginnings,
blissfully rest in darkness.
After the darkness comes the light. Dreams lost and a heart shattered can be reborn again. As long as there is hope, then those seeds of new beginnings can take root and grow
ReplyDeleteThanks Benjamin, you looked beyond words. When I write poetry I feel and I know but I don’t think. When I start analyzing, I start thinking and then I understand why I write poetry, because in one hundred words I can pack one hundred tons of information. About this poem: all in changes and cycles, intertwined and interconnected – day/night, dream/reality, life/death, flower/seed. ‘Long scarves’ – my veins, my physical being. ‘salamanders’ – my hopes. I dream of being earth, I embrace my mortality (for we all would be elements in the ground one day) and therefore my rebirth. ‘Tears of the night’ – dual, my dreams and morning dew. ‘flowers’ new day, new hope, new beginning. ‘innocent and sinful’ harmony in opposites. ‘the seed’ – memory of all, matrix of life. ‘the truth’ – our existence –gravity of the event horizon, boundaries that nothing can escape and we should not be aware of it ‘blissfully rest in darkness’. On the other hand, i probably should not butcher my poems like that...
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