false idols (sanctuary)
beliefs and baubles rain down
from a sky filled with numbers
and i have no cloak to offer
the skin i wear is my reality
broken hands and banged up knees
my gift is the soil scraped from nails
rich with worm and cross-hatched root
held down by your wing driven sky
nothing is wrong in the forest of calm
and i climb into the cave of bear
embrace the bones you’ve buried there
each icon wrapped in fields of feather
loose layers of tender revealed by touch
reflect the season of my eyes
as spring awaits the hunger of your cry
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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.
Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.
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April 20th, 2014 at 8:48 am
my gift is the soil scraped from nails
rich with worm and cross-hatched root
held down by your wing driven sky….beautiful poem.
April 20th, 2014 at 10:47 am
So, so, so beauty-full. And the photo! …the photo!!! Thank you. What a lovely Easter gift.
April 20th, 2014 at 3:44 pm
it’s always so hard to write a comment here which encapsulates how i feel without sounding bland or blase. for instance, today i wanted to say “wonderful” – which to me is a heartfelt and many-layered saying – but it would come across perhaps as dismissive.
in any case, wonderful!
April 20th, 2014 at 8:36 pm
really cool rhythm and rhyme to this…kinda haunting actually…the bones in the cave…the soil under nail with worm and root…its a cool kinda magic in it…there is oftn calm for me in putting hand to the soil…
April 21st, 2014 at 1:57 am
gypsy’s don’t plant much, being on the move so much… ~