Thursday, 26 April 2012

dear ....., a declaration

in the places where i quietly die,
with fresh eyes i observe the fall of pale petals,
the way they stick to damp and dirty skin.
what a gift the body is;
perfectly lavish in it's abilities and offerings.
'offering' meaning the conscious decision to give;
and things were taken which i most certainly did not give.
for what it's worth i believe nothing dies completely,
things only change shape, a combination of evolution
and stunted growth with flashes of beauty both seen and lived.
we each come from more than some point on a map.
for one to translate us requires the ability
to speak our varying languages.
i turn to the teachers who sing me their hearts,
know mine has love to spare.
a hope..
for my body to remain decorated with flowers
whilst the dirt falls from my thirsty skin.
i hope that my heart continues to burst daily.
i believe the exorcism of shadows will be an exquisite kind of peaceful.
ghosts laid to rest through hearts expressed with all six senses.
with love.
no more will you determine my fate.


alvaro barcala said...

love this.

Wingfall at dusk said...

It is always breathtaking how you can write about things in such an utterly vulnerable and yet, at the same time, incredibly strong way.