Cycle (Poetry)

I sprung up

A new shell

A brave receptacle for desire and sense

A slate fresh.

The morning,

Life’s dawn

Crashed about me,

And I knew,

Hope was a flower

Untouched

Amidst devastation.

If we were only to pluck it

With our frail hands

Bring it close, to our sad hearts,

It would paint the day

With colors translucent

Draining its life into our fingers,

Into our very being.

For as I reentered the cycle,

Into a life coming, to be gone, never retrievable,

All the darkness fell from my spirit,

And I saw with the eyes of the uninitated

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Cycle (Poetry)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s