Friday, August 13, 2010

Grounded


I'd climb to a cliff and scream till my voice ran out,
set sail to my words, little bonfires on the crests.

I'd wait to feel that thunderous roar,
an answered prayer, an echoing thunderbolt.

A slap of wind as it rushes through my skin,
wanes and withers to a caressing breeze.

I'd kneel and grasp the grass and earth,
feel the moistness, taint my nails.

I'm a tree against the backdrop of dark gathering clouds,
proud and grounded, nowhere to hide.

And before the storm breaks out,
before it turns the breeze to wrath,
silence explodes in the amethyst sky.

I call upon you once more,
and then I know you shall not come.

I welcome madness





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