Trying to capture the essecence of escape into the mind
gently as its cool fingers caress you, holding you suspended between
heaven and earth. You heart relieved of its heaviness for a brief moment,
The pristine blue sky above you seems iridescent as you watch blue jays
darting playfully in the morning sun. Envy arises at consideration of their
freedom, and you close your eyes trying to grasp the thrill of winged flight.
Drifting aimlessly in this liquid dream, the ripples in the pool rock you
softly in their arms. A gap in time allows images of paradise, soothing
even the voices in your head, they become silent.
Seating yourself beneath the descending waterfall, you try helplessly
to wash off the touch of old wrinkled hands that made your skin
crawl, and captured your innocence unable to return it.
For now thoughts of death and dying have left you and are
replaced with an unnatural calmness. Feeling as though you
are in limbo, neither being, nor not being.
Years drift by in a blur, and you seek some recognition of your
youth, having heard others expound on tales of circus clowns, fluffy
pink cotton candy and elephant tricks that make your tummy tickle.
What is the fault that is within you, you wonder as you slip silently
back into this waterfall dream, that the old hands are allowed to touch
you, and rob you of the ability to be golden.
The pools embrace is seductive, a tranquil place of placid walls and
self-identity. You inhale slowly, sinking into the depth of its peace,
entranced by the bubbles now rising to the surface.
Poetry by Kathryn Walsh
Read 740 times
Written on 2006-07-18 at 12:57
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Dreaming Waterfalls
Shimmering water cascading downward into a clear blue pool lulls yougently as its cool fingers caress you, holding you suspended between
heaven and earth. You heart relieved of its heaviness for a brief moment,
The pristine blue sky above you seems iridescent as you watch blue jays
darting playfully in the morning sun. Envy arises at consideration of their
freedom, and you close your eyes trying to grasp the thrill of winged flight.
Drifting aimlessly in this liquid dream, the ripples in the pool rock you
softly in their arms. A gap in time allows images of paradise, soothing
even the voices in your head, they become silent.
Seating yourself beneath the descending waterfall, you try helplessly
to wash off the touch of old wrinkled hands that made your skin
crawl, and captured your innocence unable to return it.
For now thoughts of death and dying have left you and are
replaced with an unnatural calmness. Feeling as though you
are in limbo, neither being, nor not being.
Years drift by in a blur, and you seek some recognition of your
youth, having heard others expound on tales of circus clowns, fluffy
pink cotton candy and elephant tricks that make your tummy tickle.
What is the fault that is within you, you wonder as you slip silently
back into this waterfall dream, that the old hands are allowed to touch
you, and rob you of the ability to be golden.
The pools embrace is seductive, a tranquil place of placid walls and
self-identity. You inhale slowly, sinking into the depth of its peace,
entranced by the bubbles now rising to the surface.
Poetry by Kathryn Walsh
Read 740 times
Written on 2006-07-18 at 12:57
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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