shapeshift

Image blurred, edges fade, distinction disappears,

as someone known so well and truly shown, 

shape-shifts into form unknown, but never as imagined;

so do the years bring bitter seeds unsown.

 

Do shamans bend and brood in smoke-filled caverns,

beyond the world material as we believe,

enticing who you were and pulling on your mind;

as change demands the heart to surely grieve?

In realms beyond the literal and what is physical,

is spirit so dissected, drawn apart by shining knives,

that bone and sinew, flesh and blood are laid;

waiting to be stitched in place as you revived?

For now the pieces scatter on the seas of reason,

no chance to sift remains of self and days,

just wait to hear the angels whisper words of comfort;

and hope to hear the siren song of soul remade.

Advertisements

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s