The Daughter of Misery and Rain

 

 

She was the daughter of misery and rain.

He was the son of abandonment and rust.

Together, they gave birth to heartache and pain.

Now, they lay quietly sleeping with the dust.

 

I rose from the ashes like a question mark

at the close of a sentence of endless woe

and dared to glimmer in the gathering dark

as a beacon of light for the ones below.

 

I am a flower rooted deep in the soil

arching my back against a defiant sky

and strive to survive within this mortal coil

with water-spun clouds in the back of my eye.

 

Luna washes me clean with shimmering light.

The song in her voice carries hints of the seas;

and her hollow of sky bejewels the night

by glittering over her temple of trees.

 

I am cornered by time on the dagger’s edge,

clutching the silence on a slippery slope,

slicing open my soul and bearing this pledge:

"May the ensanguined past pierce my eyes with hope!"

 

I am the daughter of misery and rain.

I am the child of abandonment and rust;

and I have tasted both the heartache and pain

when all that remains are the shadows and dust.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Misery]

I have always loved the honesty of heartache and the purity of pain.
Life sees us without clothes, without skin when our souls are "sliced open".
Beautiful verses of deepest sorrow, dear poet. Thank you for sharing this resilient poem.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much. There is no sweeter dagger than heartache and pain. When we can bleed into words, we are strengthened by our voice.