the poet

"My soul lies therein, inked upon skin, ages of scrying tolls, bells ringing like birds singing, falling to their ultimate demise. Living is surviving one thousand timely deaths and one million births, simultaneous. My pen, my voice, my voice, my palms, my soul is my vehicle, my thunder, my vociferous resounding heart; beating. On bent knee, in reverence, this gift I do accept." 

my soul lies therein

inked upon skin

ages upon ages of

scrying

death

tolls

bells ringing like birds singing

falling falling to their

ultimate

demise

living is surviving

and one thousand timely deaths

are but one million births

on this plane

still breathing

of blood and love

and loss and lust

of good and bad

and the deep dark

velvet night

of silent embrace

oh my love, my sight

my pen is my voice

my voice are my palms

my soul is my vehicle

my thunder

my vociferous

resounding

beating heart

my soul pleading

through my pen bleeding

My Lord, My God

my head thus bent

in reverence

this gift i do accept

on bended knee

for you

my soul lies therein

inked upon skin

falling falling

to

its

ultimate

life

© Susan Marie 2011