There in the center of a sigh
lay I
bewildering myself
in hot burning thoughts
rising and falling
earth-breathing wind
hair-raising thunder
over and under
rocks of the river
full moon then sliver
stake through the heart
steak on a plate
what a miss take
trusting the rusting
hinges of gates
not pearly, not open
no gentles allowed
only the proud
ready-made rule-maker
every-time heart-breaker
Love that line! Beautifully placed at both ends of your poem. From what I see, it looks like one of those surrealistic dreams we get that seem to take hours of hot passion but can really take place in the blink of a REM sleep eye.
The opening and closing of the poem - brilliant. W$hat lies between but images that take the reader on a unique tour, inspiring images perhaps not otherwise felt, all between the folds of a sigh. Love it.
This is a haunting image, as the baton takes us through this symphony of musical images, where instruments of the heart fill the air with word melodies spoken out loud for all to find connection. Whether at the beginning of a "sigh" or the end, may you never lose the wealth of perfectly composed imagery—a talent that carries your readers into realms of understanding that are unique and prized by all who avail themselves of your pen's magic.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Ron