Free Spirit
Her spirit was one that
Could not have been tied
Down so easily. She was
Effortlessly free, burning
Brighter than the midnight
Sun could only dream.
Even the stars paled in
Comparison to the sheer
Amount of light radiating
From her spirit. Galaxies
Quivered, aching for that
Warm light to fill their
Darkest crevice, abandoned
Eons ago by others whose souls
Were tainted by rage and avarice.
Yet that incandescent spirit
Was not entirely free of sin,
What she lacked in rage and
Avarice, she made up for in
Gluttony and sloth and lust.
She was well aware of this,
Uncaring of her imperfections.
She was sound in her
Desires and confident
Of her innermost being.
Maybe that's why she was
So bright. She never stifled
Her inhibitions. She gave
Her demons as much of a
Voice as she did her angels.
That free spirit of hers
Made imperfections seem
Like a hidden treasure,
A gem hidden well beneath
The waves of the world.
Even the heavens longed for
Just an ounce of that stability.
Maybe the key to happiness
Isn't achieving success or
Total perfection. Perhaps
It's a healthy respect for
Who we once were -
And where we'd been.
YOU ARE READING
Parchment and Perfume
PoetryThis draft represents the inner workings of my mind, among other things. All of my poems and prose will be cataloged here and available for feedback. Pieces will constantly be added or removed to fit the guidelines for any poetry submissions I have...
