My Craft, Personal Journal

Words For The Woman of Death

TBagshaw-Dead-Wait
All rights reserved to the artist Tom Bagshaw
I used to write beautiful words:

in the forms of poems, and sonnets.

At a time in my life, I sought death;

the pull deep within it.

 

But long have I been gone,

lost in this shallow world;

Seeking your voice

I once heard as a child

 

Your fingertips are black and cold

guiding me forward

oh, Mother? I feel so old,

at times, I’m so tired.

 

I birthed myself from the womb

of that murky darkness,

To a world full of  light

it singed and seared my senses

 

I hear your whispers in the wind

the call to dig my fingers in

deep to the earth, where you felt me bleed

I’ve known you for so long

and now I’m freed.

 

I am with you again.

And so, I’m free.

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