Formlessness

Time washes me daily brining my body

I become crusty as stale salty bread.

Molding when the rain comes …

turning blue.

They call it formlessness

This period of waiting

My toes dig in

And curl around the cliff’s rock ledge.

 

I stop like time, as formlessness takes hold

My marrow now loosening . . .

Oozing through my bones

Draining me until I am no more.

Moon looks down.

Smiles knowingly

“You will get there,” she says

“Sometime.”

 

Is it this formless state

that is so slow?

No longer have I the speed

To navigate.

I think that I am gone.

Where is my form?

I am formlessness

Now closer to soul. 

 

Author's Note

Shadow Tree - Photo

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

There is such a dreamish feel to your words.. that place where time itself drifts by.. Filled with emotion and insight, you let us all experience this formless state that opens us to the soul..

[Bethany]

Ahh that really stuck a chord with me, thankyou for sharing.

[Matthew Kult]

Hello Lizzy,

Formless...sometimes we have to keep ourselves in a constant state of formlessness to avoid being hurt and pain. We avoid forming who we are to appease those around us, to avoid making others angry.

Other times we do it so we don't have to show who we really are, afraid that little secret deep down in our souls will be visible to everyone around us. Then what? Mass murder? Would be fun....but...

Always,

Matthew