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vanishing point

i may never bend,
a willow branch
thirsty for space

i heed wild skies
and sunsets
that flame this
hunger to feel

there is nothing to
my God is lost in creation,

i was a goddess once,
one of seven sisters
one of nine daughters
of Eve.

i leave no trails for you
do not follow me
i've gone far beyond,

earth is a temple in my veins,
do not sound your trumpet,

the New Jerusalem rises,
sing your song
dear lovers,
the clouds are parting
a thousand violins play
on the eve of your arrival.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Don't know where these are coming from... I'm only a scribe.
Editing stage: 


The vanishing point, is where the ego returns to its peaceful nature, and of course, in art...



author comment

Never gonna happen, Kal. Well, maybe when Anna's ashes speak.

If it's too hard to take, just blow them away.

Actually I was considering not posting any more poems in many of my venues, Neopoet being one. Why? Because all things come to an end. And I've done what I've come here to do. The rest is of no consequence.


author comment

Thank you JC. Kal and I understand one another, I would expect no less from him, it's not that he isn't kind, it's just that he understands the vanishing point all too well, dear one.


author comment

turtles all the way....

(and lots of warms hugs)


author comment
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