Don't Hide Your Wings
Don't Hide Your Wings
Pieced together with scraps
Of holy books, bound with the glue
Of a mad and desperate hope
Hang them on your shoulders,
Shine with the terrifying joy of being known.
Indulge in the sacrament of transformation,
Commune with the highest powers,
Feel your sacred self soar
Out of your bones; float in the whispers
Of thin air and cold mists.
And touch the terrible, destroying
Light of the great and fiery sun,
Falling up into the clear and silent realms
Above; the light piercing through your
Gilded flesh, radiating silvery threads.
Shed your hallowed frame and return anew
Crash and scorch the forests,
Turn the desert sands to glass,
Strike the earth with the force of
Lightning, scream your name like thunder.
Rise, smoldering, skin in embers and blessed
Black char, step from your crumbling grave
Bring new life to desolate plains,
Cleanse the salt from the fields,
Extend your arms, and breathe finally.
Breathe new air,
Breathe in new lungs,
Breathe fire and flame
Breathe nothing and everything
Breathe, at last, you.
More Posts from J-i-poetry and Others
i care btw. i care abt the song ur listening to or the bug u saw or how u just got outta the shower or how ur happily hanging out w ur friends or how ur kinda sad or how good was the meal u just had or ur fav character from an indie game nobody knows or if u chugged down some water. i always will
SAVOR
Staycation
Rooting through yellowed, dusty memories
Those of my grandmother's back yard,
The smell of sweet maple leaves
And the sting of late autumn
We made "potions" in my backyard,
Collected rocks from the stream
In the park, and amethystine bruises.
April, when the slush finally gave way
To the annihilated lawn, the mud warming
Bringing worms for fishing to the surface.
I remember when my brother lost his
Pink fishing rod to a monsterous carp
At the KOA campground pond,
How dad fished for it with his rod,
I can't remember if he got it back.
We never went fishing with him again.
I fold up my hippocampus and stow it neatly
In the chest from whence it came,
Closing up my ribs, I vow to discuss this
Experience with my therapist,
Cleaning off the dust of age,
Hoping his insight can interpret the
Dregs of this old cup.
Scaffolding by Seamus Heaney
ouroboros
(ione meraki 2024)
It's never too late to start something new it's just waiting for you, poem of the day!
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