the view at the end of the lines

a blessing that ricochets off my chest
to fall on my bare toes, scarred and
engraved with the lines of silent sky,
that blessing is what I hold, much like
a dead flower in my palms, watering
as a futile attempt for it to reawaken.

I shut the heart inside a jewel box,
to beat unheard by lines of leisure,
it is like the peeling paint that just
won’t fall, demanding attention of
its decay, hurting eyes, I don’t want
to see anymore, everything in shreds.

there is a view at the end of all lines
that beckons all those lost leaves
plucked away from the home tree,
I am in the midst finding my way
to the chasm where it stops being
of consequence, needed no more.

.

For Sunday Mini-Challenge at With Real Toads. I am also going to link it up with Poetry Pantry at PU.

Image source– It is an oil on canvas by Piet Mondrian.

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27 thoughts on “the view at the end of the lines

  1. I am in the midst finding my way
    to the chasm where it stops being
    of consequence, needed no more.

    Great ending HA! Yes we’ve had enough just get on with it. That’s life at its best to progress! Great lines!

    Hank

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  2. it is really an interesting thought…the line at the end of all beckoning all the fallen leaves back to the original tree….there is an interesting spiritual connotation to that amnol…..

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  3. I specially like the ending – of finding one’s way, back to the home tree ~ The journey is full of turmoil & chasms specially the heart in the jewel box ~ Have a good day HA ~

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  4. the heart shut in a jewel box was the image that hit me most here anmol… for me the heart is what needs so much protection and still we throw it into things with both hands and it gets the toughest beats… though it has lots of recovering potential

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  5. This sounding inspiring to me because of the reawakening and the reading between the lines to come to a realization that we are whatever we want to be. At least this is what I obtained from it.

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  6. i was looking at the painting , and reading the words, and can’t help but sense a bit of gloom.
    don’t get me wrong, the imagery in the poem are brilliant. 🙂

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  7. This is where I tell you that, for me, this feels like a cycling of falling away and rising…of a small dying and re-birthing…beauty never ending only transforming. Beautiful and thoughtful poem.

    Like

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