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:
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...
Sublime........
:)
Glorious poetry! I love the subtle form but the words themselves have blown me away.
Really good, MZ.
No one says/writes it better!
Wow. Excellent verse MZ, love the imagery and reflective nature but, never thought two questions could be this powerful. Great job.
I like this MZ ~
We all wish to be seen somewhere...anywhere. There is pain in this piece.
the last stanza could stand on it's own
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.
Honey, it's always better if you see them, first.
Painful and sad and sometimes just the way it is.
Wow . Really touching . The unseen pain , could it be understood?
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