Helen Cheng Poet Ballad

Who Is Here

Why


You are here.


When


I’m on the edge of the cliff.

You give me your hand.

Never would I expect

a push rather than a pull.


I’m holding onto a twig.

You show up your face.

Never would I expect

a smile rather than a tear.


I’m falling down into a trench.

You pry open my head.

Never would I expect

a pierce rather than a fix.


I’m losing bits and pieces.

You hide under my skin.

Never would I expect

a slay rather than a knit.


Now.


I am here.


Still.

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Ovidiu Bocsa January 29, 2016 at 5:50 AM The muse is there in your poem. The hope and beauty and love... Your verse could catch them. Also, the flight of the dove. Helen Cheng January 29, 2016 at 7:08 AM Wow, you see so much more than I do...><