Earthquake 8.1A Poem by Marie Anzalonewhen Life hands you earthquakes... create poetry??I.
When
I said I wanted someone to
shake my world to its foundation… THAT was
not exactly what
I had in mind.
II.
I
could have done without: that
weightless sensation, that
fear of structural collapse. The
Knowing, in the place where your
stomach registers grief on
its own scale of 1-10-
the
knowledge that you are
feeling people die.
III.
Yet
I still say- the day you invaded
and conquered my life; was
more impactful than
that 8.1.
I
stopped trembling a
week after the earthquake; with
you, the shaking has lasted
4 years, and counting.
Aftershocks
are speaking to the coast the
same way your voice has
advised my destiny, all
this time.
IV.
Some
fault lines course through mountains
and valleys and trenches. Others
run some path between
human limitation and
the infinity of creation.
You
cannot see the picture on
the cover of the box of this impossible
puzzle. You just know the
other is out there, somewhere,
already
waiting for you in
whatever earthly or celestial
destination, you had
thought of journeying to.
V.
We
are but islands of
present tenses in
each other’s seas of past
and future mistakes and
universal potential.
We
travel between them trembling
even more then
the ground in Mexico right
now.
Earthquakes
have always served
their purpose- they
sculpt the exterior and interior
landscapes;
like
so much clay in
the hands of infinitely greater
powers and wisdoms- indifferent
to their impact on
something as small as
a human life.
for FC. Yes, it is still you. It may always be you.
© 2017 Marie AnzaloneAuthor's Note
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13 Reviews Added on September 19, 2017 Last Updated on September 19, 2017 AuthorMarie AnzaloneXecaracoj, Quetzaltenango, GuatemalaAboutBilingual (English and Spanish) poet, essayist, novelist, grant writer, editor, and technical writer working in Central America. "A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to ta.. more..Writing
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