The universe hangs talismans
of gentle, bold reminders.
We balance on the edge of change,
we birth change, and tuck it away.
A constant dance of nurture and rejection.
Somehow we are never distracted quite enough
to not hear the train cut through the still morning,
after we have forgotten they existed at all.
To not feel a swelling storm, a shift of heat underneath
an abrupt breeze.
What of the life that blooms and dies at our feet,
screaming with velvet tongues,
This time, don’t hold on with your life.
A. Lucky, 2008
2 comments:
Who wrote this?
Some chick who likes to pretend words can cast spells.
Post a Comment