Clay

You curse the thunderstorms in your eyes

forgetting it is exactly the lightning strikes

that will shock you back into living; life

is so beautiful but

all you feel is the hurricane

carving its path through your lungs

so you're left tossing profanities to the wind;

 

You fear it's eroding away all that you are,

but I promise:

these rivers and storms will only etch away the pieces we aren't.

 

We are made of clay

not granite nor steal

we were made to change

to be molded; to feel.

 

Let these waters wash you clean,

and this wind give you breath;

let us not be strangers to this moment in time

ticking

like the rain drops falling on your front porch; step

into this downpour and open your arms;

open your heart and the very palms of your hands

grasping the freedom of surrendering

the oceans of your pain.

 

Beneath these clouds and this rain

lies moons and galaxies,

blue skies and sun.

You've spent years collecting other's thunder

storms, leaving your soul flooded in fear.

 

Promise me:

Never take on

more than can be held in one palm

so you may always have one hand free

to cradle your own heart;

your own visions of being; life

is so beautiful;

if you look past your tears

I promise you'll see.

There is nothing to overcome;

you must simply outlast

to finally live free.

Reviews

[Amy Rose]

Really beautiful poem :) Keep it up!!