Friday, April 20, 2012

Confessions p. 18

These words have been a companion to me,
they have been my global ambassadors
They have facilitated my reconciliation with the world.
From the beginning when I entered this labyrinth
I have laid a string of words to mark and trace my way back out.
The fibers of that guideline are laden with the taste of salt n copper
they are drawn tight around the corners, fraying at the bends
Like a cross continental power line
the lifeline of my memory disappears behind me into the horizon.
Some places, it lies submerged in forgotten pools
gathering floating oddities,
Underneath the canopy of forest leaves
it has grown into the moss,
Beneath the crest of waves deep under the possibility of light
it has become a part of the seabed
like a fading trail through the perpetual darkness.
Over the hills it hangs through heights, sometimes
it catches droplets of morning dew, and for a few brief moments
a string of small suns are reflected along its length,
Occasionally, one of those droplets falls
like a tiny shard of a mirror dazzling and glistening
with the colors of the solar system
as it falls to the earth like a moist kiss from the sky.

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