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My Soul is a Tomb


My Soul Is a Tomb


My soul is a tomb-
moldy bones of contention
litter the dusty floors 
and congregate in the
murky shadows to avoid
the shards of filtered light
that steal through the gilded
windows, their arches softly
contrasting the hard lines of
mortar and cold stone. 
The faint strains of a waltz
hang on the stale air like
a fog drifting across the
stormy sea of destiny.

My soul is a prison
where cave dwellers make fire
to roast the flesh of dragons
slain by knights on ivory steeds
deep within the forest of lands
ruled by fairies with 
pixie slaves that live among
the thorns of the rose garden
where children in crips linen
dresses and brown britches
play hide and seek with 
gray wolf cubs that venture
into the daylight while their
parents sleep off the night's 
successful run with the red
blood of the farmer's dog  
staining their tongues as they
dream of being eagles.

My soul is a highway
paved with yellow brick,
lined with bright poppies in
shades of crimson, lavender, magenta
to soothe the senses of weary travelers
on their journey from rough hewn
cradle to the quiet shadows of
their final rest.  
They amble and trot, skip, jump,
race, fall, dance, trip and crawl
towards the promised land where
hand in hand they stand to face
the final judgment.



My soul is a legend 
of hunters, servants, kings
and jokers, dancers, builders,
bakers, forsakers and breakers
of hearts, of saints and sinners,
losers and winners, creating each
life with new vigor, new hope, new
understanding and a vow to make 
the next journey more complete 
than the last-without error,
leaving terror of the past behind
liked shreds of colored paper
to litter the road of memory 
with bright distraction-such
attraction impossible to deny
and so begin again..
and again...

For the prison can be breached
and the highway paved with gold
while the legend will be told in the 
etching on the walls within the 
tomb.




CKP Words and Images Copyright
2020








Comments

  1. My soul hurts, Cheryl. My soul hurts badly.

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  2. This is beautiful, Cheryl. Deep, contemplative an rich with images. I’m going to need a log of charcoal to get this up on the walls.

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  3. Prison break. I like it. Where is that beach with those unusual rocks ?

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  4. Mine does too Peter, more every day. I'm sorry for the late response but found all these comments in my Spam file. :(

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  5. Thanks so much Dan. I appreciate your thoughts. :)

    ReplyDelete

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