the shape of things to come

 

A poem about life’s potential and living it.

 

the shape of things to come

© 2015 punkie

the shape of things to come

by punkie

 

i see your

helping hand

reaching down to

pluck me from this

place where you fear

i may drown but

you fail to

draw me from

the still water that

lies deep in the well at

my core and in which my

loneliness and solitude swim

like siamese twins inwombed

before being born and then

torn brutally asunder

in ways that make

me cry or

laugh and sing

the fullness of birth

and pregnant moments

whether they contain fear,

tears or joy or all of the above

because this is the sentence of one

life the long and short of it though

it may or may not be spoken or

written like poetry stringing

words one after another

and then one

more to

even

the flow

and create

artificial shapes

built from the crazy

bits and pieces used to

construct quilted lives that

become falsey defined by lines

or safely jailed by rules and fools

who have forgotten how to colour

outside boundaries and curves

so we lose ourselves beside

ourselves and destroy the

richness of being by

squeezing who

we are

through

tinier pinholes

rather than expanding

wildly into the great arcs

and cycles of a bigger story

where we are meant to exist

in fat ripe juicy potential before

bursting free of periods, colons,

and commas like the grandest

universe dreams for every

spirit: reaching beyond

rollercoasters and

conclusions we

may wish to

deny but

that

come one

day anyway

as we die then

live again

amen.

 

© Susan Macaulay 2015. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.

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