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Gæð a wyrd swa hio scel


Fate goes ever as she shall
dragging muddied feet through the hall of my Heart
clogging the carpets with filth
leaving clotted promises
of life tracked in dirt

How dare she?

A dream made manifest
Here, this home of the heart

A dream of a better way
A dream of a future forged in the fires of the Ideal
An ideal found through daring to imagine
a better way
a true self
born of desire

A home of the heart and the self

How dare she challenge this dream
When all dreams strive to live
When all homes born of the dream
Seek to serve
As shelter
And monument

How dare she
After all this
How dare she
How dare she

Fate goes ever as she shall
throwing open the windows of my Heart-Home
drenching the drapes in rain
filling the rooms
with the storm promise

What use this?

What use to build and to shape
To heft stone upon stone
Only to see
All turn to ruin

What is this desire
This animal urge to be seen
To leave something of this self
To measure the ineffable

What use when all we are can so lightly be cast aside
When the storm promises obliteration
What use the staggering shanty that protects
That preserves
That reminds

What use this
When all is dross
What use this
What use this

Fate goes ever as she shall
tearing at the bedding of my Heart sanctuary
burning and rending
leaving cold ashes
on my pallet of dreams

What choice I?

To rail at the never faltering winds
To rage at inequity and vagary
To wail into the darkness
To live victimized in my Heart-home

Betraying the dream

What choice when no door
No window
No wall or shelter can stand
What choice to live in fear

My home is a place without locks

I would live free
My heart-home unbarred and open
Fearing nothing
Welcoming all

What choice this
If I would love
What choice this
What choice this

Fate goes ever as she shall
and I shall not stand against her as she moves
from room to room
free and unfettered
inexorable as the dawn

And she moves
Yes she moves

And moves

Moves through me
Away from me and
Towards me

With and without me

And I stand

Unchanged
Unmoved
Unchanged by all this


Author notes

Sometimes we need a reminder of why we do it

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Comments

  • kittymeow
    August 13, 2007

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    medicine for the tired footed one that is I

    kick butt.
    the poem really built for me
    and then the crash ending of all endings.
    a large pulsing poem