The Wave

Wave      By: Emma Anderson   6/22/11

 

A wave of freedom washes over

Over from the dreaded gargoyles

And the willing man

    

Willing to let them devour

His snowy beard

And searching lantern

 

Once more the wave crests

Into the Latin covered walls

Of his distant childhood

 

Where generations have written their past tales

And secret fates

As Venus looked on

 

An owl sees the wave

Approaching

Tearing through the painted walls

 

She flies up, up, up

To where the fountain lies

To the fountain where youth lies

 

And the owl’s piercing white

Fills the void with light

A light of hope

 

Headfirst she goes

Risking All

She takes her final breath

 

Before emerging

Into an epic battle

Where realities collide

 

 

 

Where good fights good

Angels are the harbingers of death

And there is no light

 

She swoops down low

Where the bodies lie in puddles

Of not blood but of salt water

 

And she knows what is coming

 

A spear leaves safety

And flies through the heavens

And hits

 

The wind carries her

Down

To the bottom

 

But her message is known

 

And it whispers through the currents

To the two faced lady

Where the flowers sing

 

And the message is known

 

Runs, runs, runs

Across the Pages of truth

To the Halls of Worth

 

Beacons of light

Reflect the deaths

Of the gods

 

It guides her to the man

In the moon

And with the stars

 

He does not speak

For the weight on his shoulders

Is too much to bear

The two faced lady wraps her arms around herself

And he knows what to think

And what to do

 

And he pushes

Up, up, up

His marble faces cracks with pain

 

But still pushing

Harder, harder

And finally

 

And finally after a thousand years

You can see

From your bedroom

 

A faint glimmer

Of years of hardship

And pain

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Inspired by a piece of artwork I observed in the Trinity University library

Reviews

[Judy Ponceby]

wow! What a beautiful peace of artwork it must be. Your words no doubt do it justice as they flow beautifully from one image to the next.

Where good fights good
Angels are the harbingers of death
And there is no light

I particularly like these lines, the juxtaposition of the angels role is really well done.

[Emunah June.]

Words cannot describe the beauty and sheer wonder inside this poem. I was left speechless the entire time.