Lent — day twenty

You will screw up. To think otherwise
is to believe a lie, fed everyday by the
marvelous, twitching steps you take
in what you hope is the right direction.
Never mind that you haven’t breathed
in a while. You walk with every muscle
taut as the rope you teeter across
in inches. One wrong twitch and
you tumble, free. And all will point,
collect their winnings from the bets
they took on you. Never mind that you
forgot where you’re going. Never mind
you forgot your own name. You’ll make it,
with utmost grace, to the end – and your scoffers,
will praise you with shame hung heads.
Never mind if you fell, you would finally fly,
like you do each night when you dream.
Never mind that your scoffers are all
taking bets on how beautiful your wings
will be.

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Untitled Poem the fourth.

Music to accompany your thoughts – most poetic journeys are best taken with a melodious companion, be it music or a friend or God or an imaginary fairie.

 

Do you feel the drum beat in your soul?
Deep, full waters quiver, moan
It’s undeniable –
Oh you’re refinable-
Fire burns bright
Waiting so eager to swallow the night,
Devour all that is not gold,
Dig deeper than the fears that coax –
Ground can shift,
Oceans fade,
The sea is well contained,
But your soul,
it’s unrestrained
You know its chains are cast away,
Farther than your mind can stray,
Why do you seek them?
You are no caged bird,
Not even in a caged world –
You’re sitting idle in the land of open skies,
Life drifts by –
Oh you will be shaped – refined,
No matter how very hard you try,
To stay the same –
Your wings are well-defined,
Why waste them?