My wings clipped and caged. My lips hermetically sealed.
My memory jogged.
The ancients revealed the muscle of the written word.
What would I do without the page to read,
the pen to write, the keys to press my hieroglyphics?
What would I become without canvas and brushstrokes
to paint the honey-speckled dawn?
The sea beckons to the fisherman
and I am drawn to the beauty of the sea.
I step out into the margins,
my life feral
and precious,
redundant,
reset, recycled,
content in moments of serenity.
What if I awoke tomorrow and found a world laminated in blue?
Would I turn each page, dog-ear the corners that meant the most,
rush through syntax and scribbled sentences
or savor each syllable
and happily live
one chapter at a time?
If only I could clone the sun, tuck in the stars at night,
and treasure the words that hover in my mind.
_________________
Thank you for reading.
Please share your thoughts. 🙃
God bless you ❤️
--Isa
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Approbation of an Irrational Heart ( Poetry Collection)
Poetrypoetry collection#random thoughts# driving deep inside the dark abyss# penning to understand myself and others# sometimes emotions, sometimes longing, sometimes random thoughts jumping out of my reverie. Ongoing....
