Dedicated to Creativity & Evolution through Spirituality & the Arts.

Monday, December 1, 2008

A Poem From the Past

WHAT BINDS US

I cannot find you back in time,
From those days I slept away,
A flickering life that was tinkering
On the brink of being born.

There are only ruins now-
once temples, below a pyramid,
Our bodies buried.
Most likely your design.

Ages pass by,
Yet you are still hidden outside,
The gates of Oblivion,
Climbing the night to see if you can
find the one you thought was real.

In one dimension there is darkness,
Where submerging lilies take their start
in the blood pond beneath my heart,
I stare at twists of ancient links,
And gaze to chains of double helix.

In between cracks of stone,
I'm lulled away to find filaments anew
or something in the dust bowl of my skull.
Searching the imagination for subtle clues.

Encoded upon the spider's silver armor,
Intricate memories are woven,
And the slow itch builds.
The metallic flow rushing to the surface,

So slowly at first that it is mistaken
for a breeze- a needed fix.
Waiting in the wings for something
to flutter by.

Yet nothing has changed,
The ghost's ideals remain,
The patterns are all the same.

It's true I walked directly towards you,
That was part of the dream,
But you didn't see me turn
and fade back across the tracks.

The part where I dug the earth,
For something in bones to trace
the moment in solidity.
I found this female skeleton,
And she became my heir:

The breath that sparked,
The pulse with the heart,
The heart with the light,
The light with the body.
Beseeching the sky
to obtain redemption,

While the fiery flesh kept the illusion,
As to where the smoke signals snake through
Old spaces between connective tissue.
The longing marrow slowly tearing,
At what was trapped with bright creation.

Under my skin I feel,
Where coursing warm waters are,
Moving along faster by burning determination.
Heart rate quickening- yearning,
To see your toothy smile.

So what binds us you and I?
Beyond the freeing of static energy,
To the discovery of what is Truth,
Something beyond the thinking mind,
As it is meant to be from God,
In one's own right at birth.

And I wonder where you are taking me,
Now that I am alive.

-Nisa

1 comment:

juana said...

Denise,
This is a really beautiful poem, as are all of yours that I have read. I would love to read more! When are you going to publish?
love, jane.

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