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As I Reach Up

Under the sweltering, luminous sun
one's breath is held in bay
heated sensations exhaust roots

Where is the song of the hummingbird now?
The daring of the jungle's fiercest ruler?
Who can claim pre-dominance, detachment?

I do-not portend to usurp your established order, Lord
I don't have in and of myself the wherewithal to offend You,
for You are my only help, shield, light, strength,desire.

So as You are my witness, I stand unmasked, declaring
my utmost vulnerabilities, raw display of emptiness
only to You so that You will intervene and eclipse it all.

Author notes

Oh God ! I am weak , but trying my hard to stay connected...Unknown.

This quote is a prompt.

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 7 of 7

  • victorbuhagiar
    November 10

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    great

    I assume that this is your latest poem. I wholly agree with you that only the Lord can guide us "home". As a poem I loved your use of adjectives, and was impressed with the "song" of the hummingbird. These birds rarely sing and losing that song is a veritable deprivation. So this connects beautifully with your feelings. However as you said, stay connected. It's the surest way.

  • Bhabani
    October 31

    Edit | Reply
    Infact the whole beauty of your poetry is encapsulated in the last few lines where you have used words like, witness, unmasked, declaring, vulnerabilities, and the entire phrase raw display of emptiness...... wonderful...wonderful...weaving of words.... I liked it bunches....
    All the best wishes and all luck....
    May God bless you.


  • PrabhuDayal Khattar silver member
    October 30
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    Ah..what a thought ..raw display of the emptiness...ths really very honest....and true to the soul you have dear friend..love the message..thanks for sharing...

  • PrabhuDayal Khattar silver member
    October 30

    Edit | Reply
    Ah..what a thought ..raw display of the emptiness...ths really very honest....and true to the soul you have dear friend..love the message..thanks for sharing...

  • Feathered Motion
    October 29

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    a good poem that scratches at the wound of poetry and opens it to set free communication's blood.
    - Black Butterflies

    He smiled to himself as wings touched his cheek,
    lost worlds danced in trickles of mirrored thought.

    Echoes of yesterday swept across fallen leaves,
    the silence was demanding but he held his ground.

    He heard her speak and cried for her beating heart,
    stones stand proud while the wind wanders to love.

    still loving you pat

  • Macsword
    October 27

    Edit | Reply

    Your final stanza

    in fact your final line is a bottom line in my opinion. This is a very good piece poet.

1 - 7 of 7