Feather~

~Dying is an art , like everything else. I do it exceptionally well~ Sylvia Plath

Inside the luminous arena

of coruscating souls

they took my arms

in their place

wings seeded

swelled

from my shoulder blades

a dove made of snowflakes and sugar crystals

gave herself  form from my right hip

much to the delight

of the man

who was poured from Egyptian  gold

a crystal goblet to his smiling lips

ambrosia stains at the corners of his mouth

he offered an eagle’s feather

in the space between my abdomen

and the sacral hollow of my spine

I bent into the headdress of his craft

feathers curling from my eyelids

cream skull softening

to receive the meliflous down

of the a swan

a crown of melodious sparrows

circling my sentience

 

Later

on the ice

we did figure eights

sipping steaming latte

topped with dreams

curling steam

into a future wisp

he said,

“put your lips together, and blow”

a puff of air

red rose petals

ascending the sky

 

They took my wings

in their place

arms grew from my shoulder blades;

it took a while to be comfortable

with being human

again

 

Sometimes

on top of tall places

I wonder

if my arms

and sheer will

would hold me up

if I were to take a step 

out

onto a passing cloud

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

~NDE~

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

When the soul spreads wings to fly from the shadows of life into the light of truth, the visions that one must see must be amazing. Whatever the scientific explanations, the experiences are real to the individual having the NDE. To relinquish wings and return to earth … how could one ever possibly be the same?

You so easily step onto a higher plane, spread your wings of thought, and descend, bringing with you such visions of loveliness, that we are all inspired and changed forever.

"You live on Earth only for a few short years which you call an incarnation, and then you leave your body as an outworn dress and go for refreshment to your true home in the spirit." - White Eagle

[Ed Hart]

of course they hold you up...every time you leap from the precipice of words

[Kerry O'Connor]

This is as surreal as a Circe de Soleil performance. I love the final stanza - pure magic.

[Liza]

a wonderful way to describe the transformation in between physical life ending and spiritual life breathing.

[Loki Ragna-rock]

Take the step, "arms" and "will" don't enter into it.

[Maurice]

I especially liked the final stanza. It's a thought that I've had in the past.

[Robin]

in my own treasure chest of symbols held dear, the Feather may be my most sacred , for my own reasons ~ your words guide us through an atmosphere of poetic reminisence ~ your words soulful , beautiful and always from your heart
~

[Dinesh Sairam]

"they took my arms

in their place

wings seeded

swelled

from my shoulder blades

a dove made of snowflakes and sugar crystals"

I'd be usually baffled on reading your works. But I survived to comment on this. Loved it very much of course. A dream-story led into the surreal sleep.

Keep writing.