A Prayer.

A continuing project, working on writing villanelles.

If I were a leaf, and you were a fly

I’d tell you to wipe the s**t off your feet

Before you crossed my sacred threshold.

 

In breezes blowing midsummer heated respirations

Our inspiration would come.

Each hanging airily, leaf and fly.

 

Their synagogues were crowded and

They filled their hallowed spaces with hollow places

And so I made my own sacred threshold for the fiery crossing.

 

There was no room for plant or insect in key carded sterility

But we carried all room entombed in fertile wombs.

You were the fly, I was the leaf.

 

They say “look at the leaf

In each vein let the praises flow”

But they keep no threshold sacred for worship of the fly.

 

Let me leave it behind.

Let me leave the camps, the meetings, the guilt.

Let me live like the fly and the leaf

And if the threshold is sacred, let me be open to cross it.

Author's Note

I think it might be a bit vague.

Reviews

[Gimli]

Very interesting! I found myself here while lurking through some older submissions. Would you mind expanding upon the meaning behind this?

[Red & Blue]

Hmpf, a tiny bit vague, yes, but it adds to the deepth and flow of the write. I like it. Nicely penned

[blindmidget]

I think when I write something symbolic it can end up being vaguely meaningless, something I'm trying to work on. Thanks!