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Healing an old relationship Healing an old relationship
by Abigail George
2018-02-17 12:36:08
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Healing an old relationship

On the wings and prayer of a dove

    Leaves falling to the ground.
    Poet first and writer second.
    Futility is complex. Gathering
    the declarations of an eternal

flame. I keep all the secrets of
my heart. The feminine is subtle
like chicken and soup. It is the masculine that is the mysterious. My mother and sister. My mother waves us over to the table where she welcomes us.
Now I am considered an exile.

heal01_400_01Living between captivity and breath, gathering

the subtle energies of pleasure and
pain. I delight in the seasons of music.

    Classical music and opera. The complexity
    of its mood. Sketches of family drama
    and history. Museums and farms.
    Then I am yours, lover. To have and
    to hold onto. To cherish the familiar of you but

you are not here and a decade cuts through the separation. Cuts a divide. Your blood ripens and condemns me. Feeds, nurtures me.
Your flesh is a delicacy and so is your bone.
I write from the valley. Mark a thin passage through darkness. I long for your company but you are no longer here. I only know this heat. I only know this orange air. This global warming. Hollow. Hollow is my voice. Is my life. My house. Overhead a feast of blue.
A sea that tastes like honey in the space of my dreams.

    You’re white and light and eternal.
    You belong to the hereafter. To the

eternity. Your memory glows bright.
Big with love. Bright with an intensity.
The sea is as important as the King Sun. Soon it will be dark and there will be nothing but stars and moonlight out.
And your face will bloom and bloom at will.

***********************************************************************
Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"All about my mother" & "Brother Wolf and Sister Wren"
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

 


   
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