Passing Through


Oh how easily we wake,
Eager to walk from the womb.
Oh how easily we may trip to an early tomb.
The paths we choose and the ties we bind.
The tears we cry and the memories we leave behind.
Dwelling on the in between and holding fast to here
Rubbing away he dust,
Wanting the world to stand clear.
Seeking answers, yet they always elude the light
Present and past give no awareness to my sight
Taking steps away to the edge of my today
I would speak,
I would sing,
Yet I have nothing left to say.





Poetry by Jessica Rexroat
Read 587 times
Written on 2006-09-16 at 03:34

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Zoya Zaidi
You have already said a lot.

Welcome to the bay...the surreal one. lol

I just loved this.
Love,
Zoya
2006-09-16


Phyllis J. Rhodes
You've said so much here and said it in such a captivating way. This is a pondering poem, to be read again and again.
2006-09-16