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Laura Frisk

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Member Since: Jun, 2009

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Learning to Breathe
by Laura Frisk

Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Laura Frisk
•  The End
•  The Sea
•  Surplus Revolution
•  Tick Clock
           >> View all 5

This is an oldie.

It was in a dream that I first saw them
Cascading down galaxies wearing white veils
Small pieces of paper in delicate hands
And silver dust pirouetting in their trails

They spoke with muffled voices behind clouds
So soft I couldn't understand
They extended their fingertips towards me
But I turned, refusing to understand

When I woke, the voices came back to me
Clear as crystal and without any smoke
They said "Strangers are forgotten brothers
You've been here before, can't you see?"

Realization spread like a germ
I leapt from the sheets and started to breath
There's more to this than just documents and tables
And a small part of me started to believe

Turning the hourglass until time makes no difference
Only then can the moment be recognized
Spinning the wheel until it comes into focus
Only then will the path be clear

Worlds separated by translucent barriers
We can't bring ourselves to look through
What will you say to thwarted eyes?
How will you excuse your empty hands?

Succumbing to these manmade majesties
Derives us from the forgotten truth
It's our root, our seed, our origin
So how can we grow in poisoned soil?

It was in a room that I last saw them
Drinking red wine and wearing white gowns
Small smiles upon their humble lips
And awaiting the moment to return the throne.

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Reviewed by Regis Auffray 6/24/2009
Your verses are worthy of much more than a single reading, Laura. Thank you. Love and best wishes,


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