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Folklore
There is this lesson
passed down from my father:
The shedding tears
which step down from
the garden
by the fallen ground
eventually
make
their
way
to the barren
hills
of something new.
He has said
to create a capture
of memories
slowly.
To hold a fire
in the cave
of your hands
and
release it
carefully.
Be alone
and carry
the burdens of others
All the while
remembering
to
die
slowly.
Hadn't read this one in
Hadn't read this one in probably 15 years. But shit it's good. That last stanza is a gut bunch to the sad and lonley.
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.
Awesome
I enjoyed this. Thank you.
I'm glad you enjoyed
I'm glad you enjoyed it...thank you for reading.
dying slowly
i will try to remember that line from time to time - A