She rises from her nightmare and lowers
her pink and blue face to the sink, scrubs,
rinses, banishes the dark night.
In the mirror she tries to see what others see.
She dresses in new clothes as surrender songs
sing in her head. She whispers secrets God already knows:
It is time to break roof, swing free of this rocking chair
and these mouse-colored walls.
She quietly closes the door behind her
and leaves the building like an untethered
helium balloon, unfocused on worn-out
adages and daily crucifixions.
She joins the parade, lifts her banner high,
flicks the gadfly off her broken shoulder,
dancing, twirling, the sun on her
scarified skin, she marches on.
At the end of the line she sits foursquare
in the mercy seat, arms up, hands out.
She is risen indeed, and like the three wise men
she will go home by another way.
9 comments:
Thank you.
For this, and for everything.
A vivid portrayal of a new beginning.
A well written and mysterious poem full of hidden meaning and new beginnngs. It makes me think of a woman fleeing an abusive relationship, but I suspect there is more.
That is so beautiful. You are a great writer. Thanks for continuing to share with us!
This was beautiful!!
Always,
Elizabeth
thank you for this.
This poem is amazing, Diane. So strong.
I have been meaning to ask you about the graffiti on your sidebar. Where did you find it? And may I use it? It speaks volumes.
I should have added, since it is actually the name of your blog, I will understand completely if you'd rather I didn't use it.
That's a very emotional poem, and well written! Dare I ask if it's autobiographical?
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