Spirit is
in waiting,
striving toward the other side of
that coming moment.
You eat air that does not yet exist,
a backward vomit of sorts,
stirring up the acids stress magically infuses
into knots that eat your stomach
right before you meet him to tell him
good-bye.
Spirit tramples his face.
You pull your eyes
away from his grief
to regenerate resolve,
then move in
then move out
of a hollow yearning hug.
Refusing to look back,
you walk into your spirit’s remains,
as the frayed knotted mesh
that connected you together
disintegrates
irrevocably changing
everything tomorrow holds,
leaving a red thread
between you—
a tenuous but endless connection.
Brenda Warren 2012
NaPoWriMo 19
Process notes:
My daughter broke up with her boyfriend this evening. I knew it was happening, and wrote this to work through it myself. LoL She handled it with maturity. Her grace and poise in difficult situations astound me.
This was intended to be a response to the We Write Poems prompt to “define what spirit means.” My endless thread took its own route.
| “An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break.” – Chinese Proverb |
undercaws 