the weight of water
is always temporary
like the darkness
you’ve learned
to forgive
dawn is never your saviour
but almost enough
to make you
believe
clean is a fresh white cover
despite the mud
crawling through
what lies beneath
a map of every step
you’ve ever taken
you could be followed
you cannot wash yourself in crystal
you never were pure
this is the way you will melt
a pool of poison
sifting merriment
from bones
this soil contains us
eternity’s sacred measure
gravity’s compression
gleaning diamonds
to atone
.
.
Linking in today over at dVersePoets for Open Link Night, join us!
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February 11th, 2014 at 8:18 am
i held my breath while reading this. temporary sounded good. almost enough seemed like enough. but then the mud, my hidden past. i admit a lifetime of baptist church sundays flashed through my memories, and i began to take this personally.
that’s how good this is.
February 11th, 2014 at 8:35 am
when you think of how much of us is water…that is the lens i read this through…eternity’s sacred measure jumped out at me…and dawn being no savior
February 11th, 2014 at 1:04 pm
cleanness – pureness – weight – love the metaphors you wove in there together with the beautiful pic
February 11th, 2014 at 2:35 pm
You’re so right, dawn is part of the continuum, not our savior; although if waking from a nightmare, it can be our sanctuary. This winter is drudgery for so many, snow, snow, so beautiful to behold, yet adversarial to the cold core. This piece had several fine stanzas, liked /you cannot wash yourself in crystal/ you were never pure/.
February 11th, 2014 at 3:04 pm
the transition from title to first line reminds me of how ice sublimates to vapor bypassing its liquid state entirely – it’s there, then it’s not – yet it is. I’m not doing a good job explaining this, but a fantastic write ~
February 11th, 2014 at 3:13 pm
The thought of the mud creaping through the cleanliness of snow is such a strong thought.. really something that touch me a lot.
February 11th, 2014 at 3:16 pm
A very interesting read. I think I will have to come back after it has had time to settle in me. Loved the language and imagery. >KB
February 11th, 2014 at 3:31 pm
There was a time i only wore socks..something about tactile sensitivity..and all of that..but..
what i learned much later in life well past 50..as before i think at 5..
is barefoot..and dark souled feet..
is deeper meaning..
than socks..;)
February 11th, 2014 at 4:19 pm
almost enough to make you believe
yes, this
much here in these lines
February 11th, 2014 at 4:37 pm
fantastic metaphors within this poem that took my breath away..was away from reading and commenting anywhere for months, it was the first poem i read in a long time and it delivers so much inspiration 🙂
February 11th, 2014 at 4:38 pm
So much imagery here. I found it captivating and surprising here:
this is the way you will melt
a pool of poison
sifting merriment
from bones
But I could really sit with this poem for a bit. Thanks for always speaking to me with your prose.
February 11th, 2014 at 4:39 pm
I like your expressed thought that dawn is never your savior, yetis almost enough that makes you want to believe. So true, I think. At dawn sometimes one thinks almost ANYTHING is possible, even though in the bright of day one sometimes learns it is not.
February 11th, 2014 at 5:45 pm
Great imagery here, Kelly!
February 11th, 2014 at 6:00 pm
“this soil contains us
eternity’s sacred measure
gravity’s compression
gleaning diamonds
to atone” the whole poem is absolutely gorgeous and the photo so perfect.
February 11th, 2014 at 6:09 pm
Beautiful work here, which touched me deeply tonight – I especially liked:
“dawn is never your saviour
but almost enough
to make you
believe”
I admire the depth of your work. With Best Wishes http://www.scotthastie.com
February 11th, 2014 at 7:26 pm
I liked the pull of contrast you’ve captured in your lines
February 11th, 2014 at 7:55 pm
Such Lovely and Powerful Imagery. So Very Nice !
February 11th, 2014 at 8:03 pm
love the metaphors, lovely poem Kelly.
February 11th, 2014 at 8:54 pm
Great imagery and structure.
February 11th, 2014 at 10:06 pm
You and I are on the same wavelength today!
February 11th, 2014 at 10:46 pm
The snow is just a cover for the mud crawling underneath, we are soil(ed) and feel a need to atone…powerful imagery!
February 12th, 2014 at 2:16 am
The people of Somerset and large swathes of the UK are wishing fervently that the weight of water is only temporary – eight weeks now and now sign of the rain stopping and the floods abating.
Your poem made me think.
February 12th, 2014 at 4:41 am
Oh, I love this, one of my favourites of the week, most definitely! Particularly:
‘dawn is never your saviour
but almost enough
to make you
believe’
and ‘a pool of poison
sifting merriment
from bones’
February 12th, 2014 at 8:01 am
Breathtaking.
What style, what lucidity and what source for contemplation. Marvellous.
February 12th, 2014 at 8:19 am
wonderful metaphors you have used here.
February 12th, 2014 at 9:19 am
The mud seeping through the new fallen snow – that image stays with me. And in a way I hate it, soiling what is so clean and fresh. And in another it means spring, and that is something worth getting dirty for! A nicely crafted piece with a bit of a chill to it.
February 12th, 2014 at 10:22 pm
i cannot add any more to the comments above. you
never fail to amaze me. this WAS GOOD.