Blood Letting In April

Your creeping vine of sorrow,
drops its seeds of memory.
They pulsate and germinate spreading
themselves thinly in my soil.
The dirt of me rumbles down
in the long remembrance....
And your torment shakes my earth
like an overdue train
roaring down the San Andreas’ fault...
Pain and torment with wings and feathers
and human warmth beating across the atmosphere,
finding its way to the fertile nest of my autonomy...
Hard won with fists of fire flailing against the lash and sting
...sounds of my own wailing sliced the song and freed the sentiment.

Can I tell you better how I know?
Can I taste your tears and suckle your need?...
Go ahead drop your creeping vine seeds,
my earth is rich with years.
There are halos and there are thorns;
Roses in December and bloodletting in April rains.
The thunder of your good Fridays
soaks me with your tears....
But I know there is a resurrection Sunday,
   And a fleeing of our anguish and our fears.

Reviews

[THERISA]

An organic fusion of imagery, of Nature and your Christian believes, which surprised me when i started to read this poem. Wasn't expecting this expression of your faith. Should have realized it with the poem's title. Great blending of these passions, that the reader can feel the seed being planted and thorns upon our body. Thank you for sharing this very passionate poem with us.

Therisa

[Legion]

The imagery in this is stunning. A great write and a great read. You use words like a sculptor uses a chisel. Precise and with a point. Bravo! Going in favorites.