Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Surrender to the Burning

My quiet eyes weep
for the one who will banish
from them the view of all other men.

In silence they do dote upon
the verbal imagery of his face
it clouds the mind and torments the soul.

The first flourishes of a spring drawn
from a frozen earth, birthed into being
by the presence of the sun.

Passion favors the sentimental heart
imprisoned by the walls we build
for simplicity’s sake, for our own safety.

Walls are built for such things as these;

For the breaking of the waves
that threatens houses built upon the
inconstant sands of a fallen world.

For sheltering dear ones from
the terrible conditions that lurk
beyond door posts and property lines.

For the keeping of creatures
brought under-wing with careful tending
and, at times, for restraining away their stubbornness.

For the housing of fortunes that pour forth
from the fingers of diligent men
like the belligerencies that pour forth from a drunken one.

And I, one lost among them, slipping through the hands
of caretakers and housekeepers, unknowingly,
a thing without the walls of care
a creature born of the wilderness
not dear enough to keep
the rogue wave of men’s nightmares.

I am, after all, a woman with fire in her veins
and purity tucked away in her
heart like a secret.

The sun has drawn lines, dark upon
my unclothed skin, hungry for it’s continual
kiss to shelter me from the harshest of exposures
to this dead and dying world.

I find no greater comfort than this,
that we are each creatures of light
drawn together by a likeness of being.

Light alone burns the remembrance of darkness
from the corneas of my eyes,
and absorbs the sting of infectious living.

Nocturnal shall I be no longer,
for I am a creature of the day,
I have laid myself upon the alter of light.

And I must, surrender to the burning
for it makes ashen things out of
the temporal, and the wretchedness of life.

Yet one thing remains…

By the sun life is born and sustained
none can live apart from it,
neither you, nor I can escape that truth.

There are no better stories than
those written by your presence
hot upon my days.

Those ever fixed marks revealing
a profound truth I can no longer deny,
that I loved him once, and

he loved me too. 

I'm offering up another poem for dVersepoets.com Open Link Night, come join us for a night of poetic revelries. Offer up one of your own and join the fun or kick back and enjoy reading. I look forward to seeing you around. ~Apryl