Only the second poem I have written. It's about self discovery and healing. |
Beginnings Sunken deep down in a distant abyss Swathed in darkness the body's embrace. There resides a wee flame on the shores of a pool In this realm of peace, the wee flame doth rule. Sleek serenity glazes over the water's face Enveloping calm, neither care nor haste. For this place is of peace, and joy and love Innocent and silent, pure as a dove. Eternally burning through passages of time To every creature alike, it does them bind. Perfect alone in shape and thought Shield you close, from life's onslaught. Blanketed in dark, not a thing to be seen Sheltering you safely, when you wish to flee. The water gleaming in the wee flame's glow No movement nor ripples or fret does it show. Though alas one day, the pool awakes Broiling and foaming, like an angry earthquake. A wild wind whips, and beats the waves Flaring and fanning the wee little flame. Up does it flare, strongly and bright Heating the blanket of darkness alight. Up from the froth the steam doth rise Seething and stirring it must break the lies. In a roar of passionate heat and fire A tiny wee droplet in its entire Freed from the writhing disturbed lagoon Its imperative job, completed soon. It creeps along, upwards with force The journey so hard, and filled with remorse. Slowly and surely it knows its path Though never been traveled, it's relieved at last. Drawing and holding pain as it passes Soaking up anger to burn it to ashes. An uphill battle the droplet does fight But at long last, brims into the light. Swelling with pride and accomplishment full It beads on the edge, feeling the pull. In a great wave of joy the droplet leaps Trickling smoothly down the soft cheeks. Releasing the poison, the anger the pain The tiny tear, it etches a stain Of courage and honour, the will to go on Releasing its healing, let the hurt be gone. Skimming the chin, the tear does pause Gazing above to send his applause Many have gathered, to peer down his way Ready to leap, their poisons to slay. Hovering gently, he knew he was finished His critical job, the soul to be nourished. Letting it go he floats to the ground The resounding healing, heard all 'round. |