As the rushes of the River Shannon

There is a great divide
a volcanic thunder
splitting my cerebrum
in half
like icicles melting and cracking
upon first Spring

My Lord, My God
My beloved soul

My spirit cries
in utter despair
mouths of children
and humanity at my feet

Mother Earth I am not
yet I am
the world is calling to me
calling to me
speaking my name
again and again

I am responding like quicksilver
one voice
for millions

I am but one soul

This great divide
is deafening
as one sense
has been taken from me
as the deaf man walking with cane
blind
as the blind man walking with hands to ears
as the voiceless oppressed
huddled in cell
with hands over eyes and mouth
not knowing what to say
for all thoughts have ceased
all connections have been
re
wired
all lines drawn blank
upon slate
one board
shared
broken in half

What is this new channel
I am attuned to?

It is hard to decipher
as a radio wave
sonic booms
atomic bombs
crushing my
sternum to dust
each joint in this frame
woman
is cracking upon waking

I have transcended all boundaries
yet remain completely still
and you,
the forefront of my
third
eye

Your back is turned
to my heart
I contemplate why I am being given
such messages
for I do not understand them myself

I have no confirmation
like an SOS sent silent upon sea
cast as nets
for fish that are dead
eyes wide and bulging
floating upon sea glass
waiting to be stuck in sand
on some uninhabited island
dying beneath the eye of heaven
the hot suns breath
her fiery dress
she lifts it for this
for us

My love
your spirit is traveling at the speed of light
I feel it rushing and burning
and here I am
awaiting your arrival
yet it is not to me

You are traveling
where or where my Lord My Savior
sweet heavenly angels of God
please, do not bloodlet my veins
again

I am frail as the rushes of the river Shannon
I have already sent

too many souls to pasture. 

© Susan Marie 2011