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reluctant goodbyes

I've known a joy
I had no right to expect
touched miracles
in their first creation,
and life love and belief
grow ever greener still
as we say goodbye

I had thought
a day free of regret
would dawn on Azimuth, 
I had dreamed
that I had known fully
what this life held,
yet here in this frigid
torrid maelstrom
I've met only fear
of everything 

As the night
calls creatures home
and wanderlust
draws me closer still,
the bluebirds trill
tomorrows lullaby
I am learning to let go
piece by bloody piece

I want to fall away
into a mothers arms
forgiveness in the act,
the dreaded presence
of me and I, alone
lingers beautifully still

Loathing radiance
did not dim the light
hating does not delineate 
and never tamed the soul
bound by love,
despising weakness
only exposes your own,
racism never has rhyme
it is stilled of reasons
devoid of emotion

here we discover
the the death of pain
is the inception of eternity,
here we find acceptance
in a forgiveness silenced
that alone, can only find peace

Fractured days
are the memories I carry
broken plane promises
will burn the fire of hope
tonight I must say goodbye
terror tears at my heart
undulating into my soul.

But one last word
in the blood of courage
will take my breath
as it rescues my soul,
one last touch
will graze your check
a fulfilling moment paused
as we shall never get,
when its the end, adios.

The dew leaves footprints
in his name only,
as the willows whisper
welcoming me back home

I am here again
at the end of all things
content to deny hope
in all her forms

 

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

An interesting poem. Some of it confused me, but the language (bah... verso libre) always pleases.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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ambiguous language, enough of it gets through to give me an idea of what it all about. I can't critique this. It whispers too much and holds my heart too close. ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
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arent they! you write the best goodbyes Jayne...
languid...longing....passionate...
exquisite!!

the best baby!

thank U mr Esker!

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