POETRY IS LIFE -

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Saturday, July 10, 2010

ECHO of the SOUL

Echo of the Soul

Evident by itself,
obvious in time
you shall be filled
with ecstasy,
spirited by cheer,
intensified with envy
stirred with passion…
yet, you are so small…
a measly weight

I take a deeper gulp
of air, my body spins
an instrument of life –
color coded hemispheres
directing me into
another splice of time
to rejuvenate another
layer of wasted skin….

I see the marble
where gray is prominent.
A train track where
many a drunk slept,
down a hill of clover,
and then I count the
mounds of gray as
before… some new,
some old…

It is cold at the highest
peek, but cold doesn’t
detour me, doesn’t
cause me to shiver…
I flood as a breeze
in a rainstorm,
unwilling to stay,
unwilling to leave…
Unfair, calling on me
in my dream…
I am not ready to
drift here alone,
gray skies are enough
for the warm blooded….

Wings of an angel
must be floating near
the top of a mountain
as you leave the map
drawn here on earth…
tree tops lean, cry
as mysterious land
is opened to accept
your soul…
you run - not
knowing

Today is peaceful
and too I must depart
find reason to fly
back on a single
breeze, to touch
frozen soil, and
dream with you…
My voice, an echo
of your day, my
body a castle you
cannot see – my
mind evaporated
heart, tormented by
a dream like festival,
and I shall never
fear when I am lost.

Where rocks are
pebbles and streams
are scattered patches of
wet leafs from
yesterdays damp autumn
and teased by giant
boulders where fresh
strands of water form
a familiar face, too,
on my return as high
noon carves deeper lines.

The snow is scarce
till a gentle brush of wind
lets time rest on a
human face…
Warned of night,
told of magic in
white castles near a sky…
Still a haunted forest
cries from wolves,
a human mind creates
havoc in the silence.

My legs climb higher
slip on rocks buried
from yesterdays snow…
higher now, as tree tops
bend to greet you, your
strength leaps over
frozen brooks –
you will greet the cold
stone shell I have become
now stretched above
the tallest tree,
on wooden steps, you
want to teach the carving
of a young mans heart.

You have crossed many
a storm in quiet water…
crossed a peaceful
flame of flowers, and
the loneliness near
the top of a mountain…
Your gentleness scares
the wolf…

Nancy Duci Denofio
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