Feather~

~Dying is an art , like everything else. I do it exceptionally well~ Sylvia Plath

Inside the luminous arena

of coruscating souls

they took my arms

in their place

wings seeded

swelled

from my shoulder blades

a dove made of snowflakes and sugar crystals

gave herself  form from my right hip

much to the delight

of the man

who was poured from Egyptian  gold

a crystal goblet to his smiling lips

ambrosia stains at the corners of his mouth

he offered an eagle’s feather

in the space between my abdomen

and the sacral hollow of my spine

I bent into the headdress of his craft

feathers curling from my eyelids

cream skull softening

to receive the meliflous down

of the a swan

a crown of melodious sparrows

circling my sentience

 

Later

on the ice

we did figure eights

sipping steaming latte

topped with dreams

curling steam

into a future wisp

he said,

“put your lips together, and blow”

a puff of air

red rose petals

ascending the sky

 

They took my wings

in their place

arms grew from my shoulder blades;

it took a while to be comfortable

with being human

again

 

Sometimes

on top of tall places

I wonder

if my arms

and sheer will

would hold me up

if I were to take a step 

out

onto a passing cloud

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

~NDE~

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

When the soul spreads wings to fly from the shadows of life into the light of truth, the visions that one must see must be amazing. Whatever the scientific explanations, the experiences are real to the individual having the NDE. To relinquish wings and return to earth … how could one ever possibly be the same?

You so easily step onto a higher plane, spread your wings of thought, and descend, bringing with you such visions of loveliness, that we are all inspired and changed forever.

"You live on Earth only for a few short years which you call an incarnation, and then you leave your body as an outworn dress and go for refreshment to your true home in the spirit." - White Eagle

[Linear]

The inward spirals of your mind are like the threshing floor at havest time, I stand mesmorised and weak at your expertise, so what can I say, amazing poetry

[Cafe Reader]

You are not just an excellent poet, my dear, you are a living remedy for the soul.

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

What a beautiful dream.
Im in awe.

The only flaw I could find in this poem...
was that it ended.

[Pax Analog]

Where the primordial miracle of any existence at all meets the vector magic of form enfolded in formlessness.

We might as well be meringue.

The surreal shamanism of the feather speaks volumes as to subtle touch and awareness.

Hollow hallowed are our evanescent arisings, our infinite variations.

"I bent into the headdress of his craft/feathers curling from my eyelids/cream skull softening/to receive the mellifluous down/of the swan/a crown of melodious sparrows/circling my sentience"

Fine weave of indigenous feelings into birds into angels into Mind.

[Lachenille Papillion]

I read and reread, and each one brings me to the brink of love... each read to a different love... each read to a unique choice...
breathless and outstanding...
and filled with the ache of eternity gone round many times...
timeless...
that's it... timeless...

[Lachenille Papillion]

No one comprehends the soul better than the one who's traveled the course many times herself... sigh~ you write from complete and total understanding, not just imagination...

[MuSe Ampoule]

Beautiful magnificence. wondrous journey into and out of melding mythologies....just mind blowing. *digs through pockets for change* What do I owe you?

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Just wonderful! You use excellent imagery! To be an angel!

[KAREN]

Another beautiful write my friend! The words you write roll off my lips so easy ! the flow is amazing!

[Marianne]

You have such an intuitive mind to delve into another person's 'psyche'...Sylvia Plath died many a death until she finally confronted it in the manner she did.
Your thoughts here speak to me of dying in LIFE ~ life's trials and blessings transforming us with every step we take...and oftentimes a death of 'SELF' frees us to live more consciously, to embrace life more willingly and thankfully...death in the end comes to us all...it is indeed an ART to die well, but only if we take the time to live well also..........your lines below are the model for me :

I bent into the headdress of his craft
feathers curling from my eyelids
cream skull softening
to receive the meliflous down
of the a swan
a crown of melodious sparrows
circling my sentience

You are the most unique writer, Selene