Gorge

It’s a rocky cliff to overlook
when evening’s still so glum,
when the darkness whispers that this life
is too much to overcome.
That precipice may scare you
when you’re tired and poorly shod,
though throughout the day you cling
steadfastly to your god –
I’ve seen your withered, beating heart
ascend these fearful heights
and bravely keep a lookout through
the storms of these long nights.
Stay true to what the daylight speaks
into your quiet soul,
for though the night feels long and dark,
time still takes its toll –
be patient with eyes skyward,
for this night will soon have passed,
and you’ll find yourself across this gorge
and continue on at last.

©K Paige Medina 7 December 2017

via Daily Prompt: Gorge

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Cursed

I am cursed.

A doomed and unbeautiful creature, eyes and heart perpetually skyward, I have the curse of poets, the disease of Romanticism, seeing beauty in the ugliness and awkwardness and messiness of life.

Oh, do not say it is a curse.

The curse, then, of the unskilled poet – the off-key bard thrumming unwelcome odes to the sound of an incomplete melody,

A sawed-off kind of poetry,

A flea market poetry,

The poetry of gnats and electronics,

 

That which, once heard, cannot be silenced.

 

©K Paige Medina 10 May 2017

Unsnuffed

There is an element of sparkle
In the sputtering of flames;
In the moment of extinguishing
Fire yet spits forth her names,
Affirming in the moments when
Ceasing seems most true
The lightness of her being before
Life’s final adieu.
And I guess that’s how it feels
In the company of night
When I’m drowning in my failure
And something deep within me lights
And burns an angry rebel spark
That glitters into being
The forgotten words of truth that
Send my fears and regrets fleeing,
And for a moment yet I’m strong
And whole and ready for one more,
Alit within with stubborn sparks still
Glowing in my core.

©K Paige Medina 25 April 2017