I.
Woman bending over cleft in oceans grimace;
reading stones like Braille, from a distance
a sudden white belly lifts and arches
how could she then, sail like leaden angel,
with weighted memory of everything as dark
that kind of light
II.
bending back the folded edges
of an old journal, ready for cremation,
she wakens to the stippled black facts
that she had had reason to sorrow
over heavy shrouds of misconstrued understandings
that left her, nonetheless, free,
to make better choices; and in that heavy script
she pushes back heavy wrappings
and begins to awaken to fate’s fine fully-lit face
that kind of light
III.
a daughter’s note from inside her shell
of treatment’s cocoon:
“I get it, Mom…what you warned me about…
and loved me in spite of not being quick about…”
that kind of light
IV.
Oh, let it come like melted butter seeps
over lemon yellow corn
fresh from its roil and boil;
that which adds flavor and savor
to something that was once held by heartache,
guilt, sorrow but becomes sweet from the inside out
or the outside in, or a hover or indecision
that kind of light
Author notes
prompt - about battling darkness, how to overcome these obstacles...whatever ways you want to write it or whatever methods you think are best for finding hope and light.
Luzde-Ora-RC Gordon
In a list
A contest entry
- Faith, Path of Light by Oleander.
300 points, ended June 6, 2008, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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That kind of light...
YOU!!!!
Shine On, m'Lady!
~ Nicky&heart;
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aw, ty dear friend. Life is buttr on hot popcorn awesome jsut now....packing now so I don't forget anything... can not wait to meet newly found brother.
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i have never battled darkness carol , if i have to you can teach me much , xxx peter
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bless your heart......there are many beacons...make sure you knwo what coast it is on.
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Damn woman...this took me from sorrows turn to and uplift of spirited yearn...leaving me hungry for the succulant corn...you spew words like a river rampant...flowing over my stones ever so gentle...
and I love the feel of it all
Mal
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Mal, what a dear nurturing poet you are. AP would not be the same for me without you!
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