With Hands That Weep
It was a liquid wall – a wave so exceptionally massive
Foreboding and catching unawares, tossing into passive
Submission of bodily functions violently shaken
White noise crashing through sandy pores
Tearing fingers along broken bottles to
Billions of bubbles bursting between salty motes
Sucking hideous gulps of brine in lung full rotes
Where serenity hides amongst coral flutes
To seek you out and shove you deep
As a soul is crossed and taken by reap
With hands that weep
Across a soundless plain
Devoid of pleasure, yet not of pain
A journey through light, a glittering void
Filled with those seeking past and present
Where worlds collide to anoint a soul
Before the hands of time; and
Commit to dust, a body belonging
To the ordinary world
Where loved ones drip upon a wasted shore
To hunch and punch
A chest that’s cold to disbelief at
Eyes that speak through windowless souls
Of a place that’s reached beyond
The hands that scream and weep
Over a body that belonged to the ordinary world
Anthony Slausen’s Poetry Contest – Near Death Experience
24 Oct 2014
Copyright © Mark Trichet | Year Posted 2014
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