Saturday, May 5, 2012

Thorns

I lie
upon the thorns
and pray the wounds be shallow.
These nights
upon the thorns
have bled me hollow.

See me there?

My gown
is a shroud
turned over to the scholars.
They debate
the nature of the weight
and the miracles that follow

me everywhere.

I lie
on feather down,
but there's no sleeping.
I lie
and wonder how
to be if I'm not bleeding.

Will you still see me there?

15 comments:

Brian Miller said...

you know there comes a point you get so used to the pain when it is not there it becomes hard to know how to live...for sure...

Mimi Foxmorton said...

Sublime........
:)

Kerry O'Connor said...

Glorious poetry! I love the subtle form but the words themselves have blown me away.

PattiKen said...

Really good, MZ.

Sylvia K said...

No one says/writes it better!

Fred Rutherford said...

Wow. Excellent verse MZ, love the imagery and reflective nature but, never thought two questions could be this powerful. Great job.

Heaven said...

I like this MZ ~

Mary said...

We all wish to be seen somewhere...anywhere. There is pain in this piece.

zongrik said...

the last stanza could stand on it's own

hedgewitch said...

The scholars of pain are like vultures, and the weight of being believed in is a terribly crushing one when you lay on thorns. Fine use of metaphor here, MZ.

Fireblossom said...

Honey, it's always better if you see them, first.

happygirl said...

Painful and sad and sometimes just the way it is.

happygirl said...
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happygirl said...
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jossina said...

Wow . Really touching . The unseen pain , could it be understood?