Saturday, July 01, 2006


A feeling now so alien yet tender,
A drop of water
On skin famished and throat dry.
Falling gently from the heavens
For every tree and creature.
Free yet rare, like true love,
Nurturing from the mother,
And tender caresses.
Soft, clear, bright and clean.
Seeping through soil and blooming
Flowers and smiles from me.
But she paused and sighed
Clouded mind and cataract eyes
Failed to see the blinding spark.
Wrinkled skin and petrified nose
Failed to smell this bounteous earth
So full of promise.
Dark and gray mattered not
Blind was she, conscious only of the rot.
Rot that gnawed and bored
Caused her to hate her spawn
Sprouted from her womb.
Years ago, when thunder beckoned
She surrendered to a man
Who seeded her womb.
The worthless offspring
She had come to hate,
Revile him for his waywardness
And fickle heart.
So like his father, arrogant and gorgeous.
She felt the drops on her face
Like rain…
Raindrop and teardrop merged,
In silent tribute to her pain.
The dead of night beckoned.
The dawn of hope long gone.
She awoke no more to bright sky
And sprouting earth,
Wombs seeded helplessly in the night.

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