The Daughter of Sheep, Unicorns and Binary Constellations
These hands rolled out lengths of rope
herding in the wild bucks, the wind-shafted saplings
and the rising dough. As the sun flares so does the whip
snapping here to head, there to pen, there to limb,
the elements they all combine like the composites
that comprise and the flowers that die, the flutter of
an eye.
Red, green, blue, yellow - shake it up, shake it up.
The blood it's running fast into the yellow bile
and the orange will be filtered into green bile
and the green bile into black which is a sister to red
and the movement is haste and the volatility is rapid
and the time is now.
Born here I am. To you. I am to you, as you are to Rebecca and the generations
bust up, empty out, solidify and become caverns in the wilderness.
There's no turning back and there's no looking forward in the hail and brimstone.
I'm bruised. I'm battered. I'm tired and I've had it.
There's little sustaining me.
All these years I've been eating eggshells on toast
and water scooped up in dolphin skins
and my thirst, it ain't being quenched.
I have a scar that goes around my neck
where a chain used to hang.
I have a broken vertebrae in my throat
where I was once cut open.
It still hurts - the lack and the cutting
40 years later.
I still can't breathe.
Now I just don't complain as much.
It's over - part, journey, day, life.
The end - it's here I can smell it and believe it.
Many times before I was sure - and then - pfff.
The surprise element I thought would take me,
ignite my heart into a place of shocking no-return.
It hardly materialized, though there were calls that one coins *close*.
Life, fragile - will it buckle, crumple, bust wide open or implode.
One wonders about these things fleetingly.
My character adopted a stance this time around.
Haughty, lofty and arrogant.
Naive, short-tempered and uncouth.
Poverty-stricken to teach and lead like Moses
back from the bush that burned into a vista
of open sadness as he glimpsed the Land then
slept in peace eternal.
I want to sleep in peace eternal.
I want Aron my brother to ease me into my last bed,
in the stone cavern, in the mountain, in the silence
and reverence. I want to sleep eternal. No more waking.
No more worlds. No more learning. No more leading.
No more being led like a lamb to slaughter or posing
as a unicorn or as a constellation of some blue galaxy,
or even as a daughter.
I am sorry. That is all I can say after it all.
Sorry for the failures.
Sorry for the apathy.
Sorry for the sorrow.
herding in the wild bucks, the wind-shafted saplings
and the rising dough. As the sun flares so does the whip
snapping here to head, there to pen, there to limb,
the elements they all combine like the composites
that comprise and the flowers that die, the flutter of
an eye.
Red, green, blue, yellow - shake it up, shake it up.
The blood it's running fast into the yellow bile
and the orange will be filtered into green bile
and the green bile into black which is a sister to red
and the movement is haste and the volatility is rapid
and the time is now.
Born here I am. To you. I am to you, as you are to Rebecca and the generations
bust up, empty out, solidify and become caverns in the wilderness.
There's no turning back and there's no looking forward in the hail and brimstone.
I'm bruised. I'm battered. I'm tired and I've had it.
There's little sustaining me.
All these years I've been eating eggshells on toast
and water scooped up in dolphin skins
and my thirst, it ain't being quenched.
I have a scar that goes around my neck
where a chain used to hang.
I have a broken vertebrae in my throat
where I was once cut open.
It still hurts - the lack and the cutting
40 years later.
I still can't breathe.
Now I just don't complain as much.
It's over - part, journey, day, life.
The end - it's here I can smell it and believe it.
Many times before I was sure - and then - pfff.
The surprise element I thought would take me,
ignite my heart into a place of shocking no-return.
It hardly materialized, though there were calls that one coins *close*.
Life, fragile - will it buckle, crumple, bust wide open or implode.
One wonders about these things fleetingly.
My character adopted a stance this time around.
Haughty, lofty and arrogant.
Naive, short-tempered and uncouth.
Poverty-stricken to teach and lead like Moses
back from the bush that burned into a vista
of open sadness as he glimpsed the Land then
slept in peace eternal.
I want to sleep in peace eternal.
I want Aron my brother to ease me into my last bed,
in the stone cavern, in the mountain, in the silence
and reverence. I want to sleep eternal. No more waking.
No more worlds. No more learning. No more leading.
No more being led like a lamb to slaughter or posing
as a unicorn or as a constellation of some blue galaxy,
or even as a daughter.
I am sorry. That is all I can say after it all.
Sorry for the failures.
Sorry for the apathy.
Sorry for the sorrow.
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