Friday, August 17, 2012

The Simpliest Thing I Forgot

Oh, yeah.
Forgot to warn you.
You, see, I got this cave.
I'm the Incognito Mosquito,
annoyingly drinking inspiration
that's stored, collected, organized and tended to.
In my Cave.
I had learned to be fearful of light.
The blinding dazzle was a warning sign
in my confinement of upbringing.
I do have a natural glow and
I was secretly sucking my nourishing protection
against darkness
from unsuspecting souls.
Souls that knew the light AND
Knew the Light as All Right.
These souls freely gave it up, too.
Unaware they were feeding the starving.
We suck with a sometimes forceful Intent.
When I learned this technique
had no suitable targets so
I latched onto the creative gravy train.
Walker|Color|Photographs, Poetry|Red Ferns,
Katharine Hepburn|Doors
Souls Gone, Going and ever Present speak to me
Alice told me this was okay
with her Temple of my Familar.
It is okay to get carried away.
The lesson I had to learn in the depths of my Cave,
peeping out toward the dancing.
I had to long for a long, long time.
Then I forgot the scene outside,
exhausted from longing.
I became the bunny on the green side of the fence.
I looked only inward,
soothed by the vibration within the walls
of the cave
of her
of the Mother.
I accepted the refuge I sought.
The simplest thing is what I forgot.

Original poetry
Danielle Sandra Sloane Vyas

No comments:

Post a Comment