Wednesday, February 5, 2014

This Mortal Coil


The words pierce through the late morning light that hangs
drowsy and dust filled and glistening
and just like that
there is no way to breathe

Instinctively I fly to touch him
memorize his lips and jowls and fingertips
trace the shadow of his profile
hear the cadence within his chest
be sure of him

Whenever Death runs past
a vale of tears cuts a gorge
right through the center of
all that was known or promised
and we become wild and frantic
for life

I eventually settle and draw in
what is left of the day
seizing moment after glorious moment
like a greedy beggar
my heart keen on wanting it all

As the sunlight stretches long across the room
I feel the pull of weathered thread
that winds then meanders then weaves itself
through the fingers of all my loves
The one that holds us fast to earth
and to each other
has weak spots

I know this
yet I want to pull all the tighter
draw in the goodness so I will have it
always
entwine the bright colored thread fast
around the faded one
to keep it from shuffling off
this mortal coil






6 comments:

  1. Yes. This thin place where the whisper of life is fully heard and exhales

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  2. Breathtaking Holly.
    Hugs,
    Kelly

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  3. This is worship. As you are, receiving as it is. {hugs}

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  4. Oh Holly. You wrap up so much humanity in this. Lovely

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  5. Beautiful, beautiful. Thank you, Holly.

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  6. Hey, Holly, I'm so glad to connect with your site--and see such holy poetry here. I am so blessed by all the SheLoves sisters I'm meeting around the internet. much love!

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