Soul’s Window


Eyes shut, sounds of others’ movements all around,

The wind howling through the shoddy casing of the window,

Like the gasping screams that dig and scratch at my throat,

Create the nightly aura that fills the darkest time.
 

My emotions run rampant, inner turmoil seeking a way OUT,

Dark roots, thick and mobile, writhe like snakes in my lower back,

Containing all nightmares, past regrets, and dark desires of life,

Flooding my body with a sinister purpose, evil and beautiful.
 

Temptation taunts the twisted soul, masochistic release in grasp,

And the trunk undulates with a malefic sensuality, lifting arms in joy,

Branches rustle, bare limbs brushing each other, before disappearing,

Diving back into the flesh whence they came, burying deep.
 

Satisfied moonlight sheds a sassy twilight on the scene,

Soft grays, stark blacks, bark you can almost touch, roughened from abuse,

A sheen of sweat trickles down my back, lending rain to the display,

As fear and lush heat quicken my breathing, dreading and anticipating.
 

The moonlight shifts, and there’s an ornate, iron-bound door in shadow,

A small key hidden among branches, suspiciously just out of reach to any passersby,

To unlock the door to all of my secrets, to plunge down to the depths of the roots,

The morbid shadow that is my soul, kept prisoner among the façade of bark.

 

Branches stretch, grow, reaching for salvation, reaching for light and air,

Blessed water from the sky, laughter and love, the fruits of life,

Cool, dark earth to build a foundation, celestial sights for guidance,

The wind sighs its satisfaction as the fluffy clouds gather and shed tears.

 

A finger brushes an amber liquid’s drop from my shadowed face in the trunk,

A huge shudder rocks the tree, wallowing in despondency, eyes close, jaw goes slack,

Ephemeral beauty shines down, caressing and easing tension, dreamland slides close,

Strength to stand, lift chin and branches, bury deep into rocky soil, and reach for salvation.

   Sometimes the brightest light comes from the darkest of places.

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2 thoughts on “Soul’s Window

  1. Pierce Moore says:

    Very vivid. Intense darkness to begin the poem, an unexpected imagery shift, and then a really intense resolution. Loved it 🙂

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