Your sleeve is smouldering, the cuff in flames.
Slow down enough to feel the burn...
Yes..., that's your flesh blistering.
You knew one day you'd catch fire,
but you always imagined it would be a manageable moment.
You'd know what to do, you'd keep notes, get it all down for posterity.
But when it finally begins, you're a babe, arms flailing.
Your fingers, gnawed to the quick, do not bode well for these words tumbling askew.
You've held it off too long. Now it wants to punish you,
keep you up all night, feed you dry crumbs, dehydrate your flesh until you slip
into the jar, alongside all the blessings you've requested over the years.
What ever gave you the idea you could request anything...?
And then, why, out of the blue, are your prayers answered as though they're a sudden priority
God must attend to?
Scorched flesh comes with the territory.
Blessings have their price.
Are you ready/able/willing to pay?
YOU ARE READING
Magpie Pearls
Poetry~ This poetic journey started when I began questioning why I write poetry. The assumption I'd come across pearls of wisdom to impart is quickly challenged by readers of "Magpie Pearls", leading me to explore truth in a broader sense. Is truth univer...
