Speechlessly

SPEECHLESSLY

What about married people? – I beg to know.
My hands have withered and I am grey.
Hear what I have done – I have refused to sing:

There is more to music than sound;
More to dancing than movement.
What do these walls mean?

Why should we break them down?
Shadows, dust, caution – or freedom.
No longer an enemy,

I no longer squirm and punch
At that part of me I call the Watcher,
Having discovered that she is the Light.

I will grab your waist and shout in your face,
And then you will know me.
I will push you through desiring –

Food, sleep, people, gods –
Right to the deeps of despair.
Only then will you learn not to need them.

The wind brings me leaves;
I bring a lemon
To place before this tree.

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on July 4, 2011, in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Gina's Professions for PEACE

    Beautiful. And powerful. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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