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Adrift

He came in from the dark of the monsoon of his soul

and pondered how he drifted so far from land

desecration and destruction…torment and anguish

waiting on the other side, hoping I’d find it but praying I don’t

fear, hopelessness and all that appears

statements of contracts entering the room

screaming, “not today, tormenter”

“not today”…

 

And so he becomes me in thought and despair

waiting for the turn, the moment of truth

until I and me combine with him and he

shuttering, tossing my food, crying inside

traffic jams in my mind due to congestion

wailing to my assailant, “not yet”,

I’m here to stay

“not quite yet”…

 

Finally, night becomes dawn in the recess of my heart

fluttering amongst the flowers, plants, and trees

those swaying trees of time and wonder

fate hanging on by a thumbnail and a prayer

receiving and sending love from heaven

in the form of a lightning bolt, a rainbow

believing at the end, “I’m free to be”

knowing “I’m free at last”…

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Written by
allen-smuckler
American
Published
Sep 7, 2012
Lines·Words
24·171
Notes

written: June 23, 2012

photo: Heaven (February 13, 2011)

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