I’m caught once again betwixt two beacons’ glow
No, rather two sirens beseeching my ear
They beckon me unto them; juts ‘neath the flow
Do threaten to tear me asunder with fear
Their voices do battle, each other o’er me
Each claims theirs the sweeter, theirs honey that’s pure
Their rage caused the boiling, the thrashing, the sea
So wrathful my safe return I can’t be sure
Oh, Scylla! Charybdis! I dare not choose sides!
I’ll hie from their song, my ship wrapped in night’s cloak
For there in the hollow ‘tween waves, ‘midst the tides
I fear not their hatred ‘gainst words I misspoke
And yet even now do I long to change course
To sail to their arms and there quench their strange thirst
For even in rage at each other the force
Of claimed love for me makes me a bridge-builder, first
Is love this? The shouting? I think more a feign
When mother and father are fighting again...
Thu, 03/14/2019 - 22:26
Thu, 03/21/2019 - 20:32
I believe I have found another favorite poet. You really do a spectacular job.
“planting seeds inevitably changes my feelings about rain.” —luci shaw.
psalm 84:10 esv.
I’m practically speechless, Jim. Very well done, with beautiful imagery.
I don’t thrive off of chaos: chaos thrives off of me.