Gypsyfiddler Ink: music & musings from my corner of the sky...

Hurricane

Life is water, bodies flowing.
Some are lazy rivers slowing
down to placid stagnancy
in currents far too calm to see.

The torrent, though, in which I dwell
is deep of soul and high of swell
and frightening to float within
awash with sorrow, flame, and sin.

A rushing flood of salted eyes
that no equations realize
save quenching thirst with pale desire--
you build each day the dam still higher.

Dare the raging waters yet
to strain the structure, dark and wet,
still certain-ish to not succumb
though barely solid, nearly numb.

You know someday the dam will break
but there is far too much at stake
to let walls breach without a fight.
No crying, now, to that good night.

For if the levee's felled at last
and futures drown in floods of past,
I fear the swells may not abate
or that their fall may be too late

To find me more than well-worn shell,
the heart and soul they "knew so well"
now drained of fire, life, and blood.
She could not, won't survive the flood.

posted by amanda @ 9:36 PM