a new blade cuts through

September 2, 2013

What will become?

What becomes of this pain?

Will it twist and gnarl me

Will it bind and restrain

Constrict and contort

All my features and fronds

Will strangle the life

It contains in its bonds


What will become?

What becomes of this fear?

Will keep me in neutral

Or throw reverse gear?

Will it knock out my brains

and wipe out my thought?

Anaesthetized mind

 In paralysis caught?


What will become?

What becomes of these lies?

Are they filters between me

And everyone’s eyes

Will they take o’er the story

Writing pages ahead

Will they plot me

and edit my character dead?


What will become

What becomes of these seeds?

Some on the path, in the rocks

With the weeds,

Those wasted and barren are easily seen

But yet others fall where a ploughman has been

On soft open earth

So hidden from view

And in grace it is these that will yet grow anew


Look what’s become!

Of the pain, fear and lies

They’re dead and decaying

These are their last cries

And what sprouts the surface?

With passion and zeal

Sharp green blades – of life! –

Cut through to what’s real

To the manifest blue and the full solar force

And weather of wisdom.

Transformed at the source

well hidden below in the nurture of earth

Pain busted open giving powerful birth

Fear its hard casing dissolved in the loam

And Lies are found groundless and love is at home.

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