ambrosia
there is fire in the desert
in the hollow of earth
like passion stealing darkness
to turn it into art:
a sun melting out of black,
holy unicorn’s blood!
dark gods
no longer will drag down
frightened angels
abused, raped for their light
no longer will they steal
the tears we spin into beauty,
our threads draped over the dawn
I hear their music
through a glass that filters the world through
like dirty water, a broken sea of barefoot ghosts
and hollowed-out eyes
I hear their laughter, in the distance,
as in a dream, celebrating,
drinking ambrosia
in front of me!
ignorant gods:
they’ve no idea how doves grow
and spring from bloodied feet,
a paleness that blooms like roses
with the hum of bees -
so the spirit stirs
like neptune from the sea:
earthquake, wave
crumbling mountain
into the mouth of our world -
uneasy, restless, awake
by the movement of wings at its feet
as in a distant dream: remembrance
on fire!
the spirit awakens to create
for we are more, together -
we are world
Comments
Oh Erika….this gave me chills….
so beautiful and moving. Every time i read your words its like I FEEL them straight to my soul. You are amazing xo
I just know you can feel my words, Christie. As I often feel yours.
You are amazing yourself xo
– Erika .
Oh my dear Erika – you speak my heart and soul in these extraordinary phrases and images. “ignorant gods, they’ve no idea that doves grow and spring from bloodied feet.” I could cry for the times I’ve recognized that it is in walking barefoot and leaving the tracks of my bloodied feet on the sands of my life that I have been reborn or seen the beautiful doves take flight. This is so beyond my ability to even comment upon – I can only say that I am in awe of your gift. And this poem is pure gift to me today. xoxox
Such words! Lianne, I am so grateful for everything you say. Thank you just isn’t enough xoxox
– Erika .
A symphony to the heart, mind and soul. Some of your analogies couldn’t be more aptly put, in relation to topic and style. Incredible piece you’ve crafted here.
oh wow, thank you for your words Russell :)
– Erika .
Oh… you are slipping into powerful places, sweet lady, primal rivers, the poetry that oozes through stones, the sting of fire, the laughing eyes of your own watchers.
It feels like it, Blake. It really feels I’m slipping into some powerful places, especially when I write.
– Erika .
ignorant gods:
they’ve no idea doves grow
and spring from bloodied feet,
a paleness that blooms like roses
with the hum of bees -….incredible words my friend.
I am honored. Thank you Chris.
– Erika .
I love this passage quoted by trenchtownrock – doves rising from the blood of wounded feet. There is something so messianic about that. Very beautiful writing Erika
ah, thank you Judith! To be told this by you means a lot to me. x
– Erika .
very nice write dear
Thank you so much Rey :)
– Erika .
I have no idea how you do it. you create such magic and fantasy with your words that conjures up other worlds and dimensions i could only dream of – and which i do dream of when i read your work. Amazing piece my dear. LOVE IT!
That means so much Fiona! I know what you mean by those “other worlds,” and it’s an honor that I am able to take you there with my words, for I dream of those worlds too… Thank you dear friend. xx
– Erika .
P.S. I just love the ending….
the spirit awakens to create
for we are more, together -
we are world
libre juntos…
Libre juntos! claro que sí :D
Siempre. xx
– Erika .
“ignorant gods:
they’ve no idea doves grow
and spring from bloodied feet”
you are a child of the world, one who sees it writhe. And you know it, judging by the sharp words you impart on us.
this: its wonderful.
“A child of the world” – I just smiled, Jake.
It’s incredible you can see that. It’s true. Thank you so much.
– Erika .