by Pearlie N Harris
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Poems from the book entitled "She of the Dreaming Sky" by Diane C. Randall.
The wind blows elusive streams of life my way, teasing over me, sprinkles laughing in my hair on my nose, spitting at my toes with pearly grit. Soon I am cocooned by this heavenly gift; I shine on the outside while I hide inside the splendor of my shell. It’s all nice and cozy, then the mutation comes, painful, difficult (what incarnation isn’t?) not pretty at all like my swirling pearly shell. I fumble blindly in half-congealed state but cannot see beyond the fading light — oh, confining womb, I want out! raised is the gossamer wing striking blow after blow against the matted nest; poking with feet and forceful jolt, a tear is made, sunbeams burst in and I drink profusely freedom’s sweet nectar.
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|Reviewed by Leann Marshall
The pain of birth--new realization--beginning of growth. A wonderful writing, thank you for sharing this.
|Reviewed by David Young
|Very well versed poetry, I like your style of writing. I have lived in Tuscaloosa for 12 years and I read you where from Tuscaloosa. I am trying to find a place to relocate to where poetry is more vocal that is why I will probably go to the West Coast.|
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|stunning imagery!Lovely poem