PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You can try to ignore them:

the hungry ghosts of

memory that travel inside

you like an old romance,

or you can open your eyes

and see her:

the melting priestess,

the lake of moon.

She came down from

the web of Andromeda and

royal-colored silence,

ancient heroes

and cackling gods,

almost as sublime as

my own shimmering sorrow,

and she's now rinsing

everything in her sight.

Your inner self can drink it

also, and soon

you can levitate like

the ferns,

and you can finally stop

asking where God is,

because God simply is

and is every breath and star

and the indigo fire 

draped all over your pain.

It is all the love you

want to slip into

like the glass chains above

and there,

in one glittering tragedy 

after another,

love seems reachable,

perhaps even real,

but only the love that is

who we always were,

only the love that never needs

pieces of you

to create all of me,

only the love that

opens the door

and sets the other free.

Patricia Joan Jones