Morning in the Eye

this morning is the placid eye

in the center of a sudden torrent,

and I stand within the womb

            professing symbolic resistance

 

abandon yesterday     forget

all of the tomorrows swaying

like Bluebells on a withering vine

 

brace for the closing walls carrying fragments

            of lost time     pieces of paradise

 

spun like silk from the marrow of bantling stars

and you  - standing in a doorway - crooked smile

remaining while all else is spirited away

 

this morning is the solitary summit

of something lost     broken

like so many jagged seashells bleached

            by an unforgiving sun

 

the kettle is boiling     shrieking as the Harpyiai,

but I am bare-footed on a disappearing shore

 sifting through mountains of white sand

            seeking something whole

Reviews

[Jack...]

Morning comes differently to all eyes, when the heart sings you awake, more than likely a beautiful morning waits for you to rise. When loneliness rings the alarm, even with the brightest sunrise a morning still seems dark. I sense sadness in this piece, a longing for something missing, a lonely heart. You have brought these emotions to us in a beautiful form Sarah. Very nicely done.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you Jack...the beauty is that each new day brings new emotions :)

[Einstein Noodle]

mourning is in the eye of the beholder eh!? :) as i read the second to last verse i was thinking its time to brew a nice cup of tea and do something special for yourself...and there it was...the kettle boiling...for me it would be a whirlpool, sauna, massage then a tall cold favorite getto beer...the sense of emptying and the ensuing quiet solitude is quite pleasant ...love the title...and the blend of events that bring me to times reality...all we have is now...:)
E.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Aaahhh, yes a massage...I do need one of those, it has been far too long. Thank you, my friend!

[Mark]

Angst laden amongst a background that is pleasant. A sign of hidden transgressions? Or maybe I see what I see because its 4am and may day is already 14 done.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

At least you saw something, Mark :) I appreciate your words :)

[Astro]

Stunning self-reflective piece. I love the comparison you make of the sound of pressure as a boiling kettle shrieking like a Harpy, and how you are able to find yourself far away in your solitary searching. Beautifully sad in parts and hopeful with a sense of urgency in others. Not quite raw, but palpable like feeling hot sand upon your fingertips.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much, my dear :)

[Astro]

You're welcome, my dear :)