No Escape From The Wind

I have lost myself
unwillingly.
There will be no
beatification for my sacrifice.
My dulcimer heart has been picked
and plucked by the misfortune
of those who seem to endure
far beyond my own limitations.

I weep into tramontane winds,
yet, remain immobilized in a raging ocean
churning with empathy.
I have become chum for the masses.

My sharp edges have long
weathered marble smooth by cries that find
and bind me to something higher than
being. Buried in the underside of happiness
I have become the unwitting sin
eater of my world.

Reviews

[Jack...]

Anne, so profiund are your words this day and sadness seems to be the river cutting through the valley. Pour it out my friend, for we are hear to listen.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much Jack. I appreciate it.

[Einstein Noodle]

so appreciate the language and depth of this poem. It peels human suffering like filleting skin. nothing to change from start to finish. A killer second verse!
E.

[Dr. Wood ?]

killing final verse rounds off such an excellent poem

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much Dr. Wood.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i'm still digesting this one...amazing imagery, Anne...
"cries that bind me to something higher than being"

excellent stuff...

[icelandicblue]

Hi jacob,

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on this one, I appreciate it.

[Angel]

This is absolutely magnificent. The imagery is nothing short of elegant. I love this piece.
Thank you for sharing it with me.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you so much Angel, I am happy that it touched you.

[Mark]

Very deep and packed with strong images. "chum for the masses" my favorite

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much Mark. I appreciate it.