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Click hereThere is a vessel of clay, fired
and tempered, full of the water of life,
that becomes empty when it is immersed -
water inside and water outside.
You ask who I am, you want to know,
and this is what I want to tell you, that I am not
that vessel, but I cannot say that to you.
I can only say that I have books whose chaliced
pages once and ever cupped the blood of my
humpty dumpty heart as it cracked open, hurtling
me from home onto the grail’s dark path.
I can only say that I have red quiet and angry
scars on my wrist and at my throat, sacrifices
for my truth, my woman, my children -
every rite of passage draws blood, marks flesh.
I can only say that now I search on trails
for sign of god; a broken branch, a cold print,
his dew breath condensed on leaves, his name
written under stones. My arrow is ready.
You ask who I am, you want to know,
and I can only say to you that who I am
is not this,
not this.
.
... a broken branch, a cold print,
his dew breath condensed on leaves, his name
written under stones. My arrow is ready."
It is beautiful. I was stunned by it also. It made cry...
I don't even understand why...
nice write, tangled words made it unclear what this poem is about but I liked some of the lines. I take it as your a seeker, searching?
delve into the value of this powerful insight on the path of the seeker...paved with many stones to uncover ...burned in the fires of life to find its pearls...so beautiful...I enjoy the view from your eyes..thanks...blue
"I can only say that now I search on trails
for sign of god; a broken branch, a cold print,
his dew breath condensed on leaves, his name
written under stones. My arrow is ready."
this is just beautiful, I was stunned by this verse and the last line, got me. look, speechless :)
~aswirls