Skip to main content

Awe

I looked up at the sky this morning.
I drive out just as the sun comes up, lighting up the buttery bottoms of clouds. 
I was awed. 
Awe is such a rare feeling, one that should be held onto and treasured.
Awe and wonder shed years off the soul, my youthful sparkling eyes look up to the sky, breathless. 

When I saw you for the first time, 
you didn’t smile. 
I could only be disappointed. 
I was in awe as I got to see you lift your lips and laugh for the first time. 

My awe and wonder as it shed years off of your soul, our youthful sparkling eyes look at each other, even to our last elderly breath. 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The State of a Rose

The affliction of a rose is of its hue, A deep disgusting red like blood without breath. Oh how it makes a crimson wreck of an amorous nose, A rose. This its clandestine depth: A rose is a rose is a rose And both the adder beneath it. How now is the charming connotation so bequeathed it? Sickness falls once bit upon, It matters not the circumstance thereon. Imbibes of blood, That allergy does, And so leeches this lively dye. Sneeze away this viral pollen, Bleed no more and so it dies. But dogma decrees that so shall it be A pis aller to let decay this eros. Yet, Is there balm in Gilead? As the timelessly exalted syntagma goes? Do these poets sing certitude or chicanery, That there are blessings to be had? So they repeat duet and say, That roses can be sated, That blood set free might return to be ours forever. Did they glimpse the incompatibility of fact and fancy? That rooted roses can be boundless wellsprings, Never to overflow with blooming red recip...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Serpent

I walked along a pearl river, I strolled across the onyx night, My tail slither. I stalked between the thickening trees, I breezed across the open fields, Mind-poisoning disease. I heard the cries. I felt the boiling air. I smelled the fire. I tasted the bitter hate. I saw her neighbors cast her onto the pyre. She screamed out to me as her body seared. I was drawn in to the ambrosial tempers their primitive natures revealed. She convoked me to make her mark. Drawn closer to the shimmering heat, she welcomed me. These heathens' malevolence brought out by the dark. And so, They heard their babes cease their lungs, My curse wrapped tightly 'round them. They smelled my gift of dead rats in the water. They felt their blood freeze in their bodies, as I released them of their hot-headed hate. They tasted the blood as it came forth from their lips' last empty prayer.
Post a Comment
Read more