note: my photo, my words.
..
1. viviere
(to be alive-to be alive is the greatest and most terrible thing)
a guardian, set into intricately carved stone, a lifeless grey.
a lion-heart, a vanguard of all who dared ventured within, sharpened canines bared in a mockery of a snarl.
if only... it reminisces fondly of the passersby:
the little girl armed with constant, incessant chatter,
that elderly lady conversing-or was it arguing?-with a fellow gossip monger not far away from its permanent position,
the businessman constantly shouting into the latest edition of the iPhone.
it remembers most of all the girl who dared capture a snapshot of its emotion, or what had been frozen in time in sculpted stone.
the girl who smiled at him and let the ink bleed into her fingers and set him free.
..
2. sleeping lion
oh, what it would feel to be alive,
for the whorls of curlicues to become fur,
for eyes to be able to blink, assessing its surroundings with a critical eye,
for paws to stretch, joints cracking from remaining inanimate for such a long, long time.
whiskers twitch, wings unfurl and spread apart, mouth still locked into that furious caricature.
who dares to wake the sleeping lion must face the consequences. and oh, consequences there will be.
the repercussions?
let's hope you can pay the price.
YOU ARE READING
a litany of ruminations
Poetry{poetry collection} s c a t t e r e d dreams and drifting thoughts, oh, not everything is what it seems... (not necessarily from my own thoughts)
