The rock soaks into me,
And the winds,
And the thundering waves
Trying to climb up towards me.
And the little yellow flowers,
Not clinging to the cliff
But thriving in adversity.
They soak and sink and change my flesh and bones,
Make my blood sing of a beginning almost remembered.
They starve my past and future, and feed the moment.
They silence, soothe and calm everything that isn’t Now.
Sept 2016 ©jsmorgane
In the beginning there is silence.
I live in the present.
Every day is the same,
A routine giving me strength,
Succour and food for my family,
Sustenance from the forbidden forest.
Beyond the pale, in the wild,
I breathe in the unshakeable present,
A Now that gives me reason.
Not a new day, just the same day again,
Safely the same again.
Safe, when change can only mean
More struggle and more pain.
Then the unspeakable,
They call your name, they say the unthinkable,
They speak the word, and my present ends.
Time has a meaning, I have a future,
An expanse of time, bleak and empty.
My Now was you,
And you are being led to the altar
As sacrifice to other people’s vanities.
So I speak too, become an agent of time,
Set an end to this new thing, this future.
Now every second counts, counts down to
When my future ends. And soon.
© jsmorgane (April 2012)
