In This Golden Cage
In Secret Caverns, we harken to the darkness.
Our headlamps’ shut off, we are anywhere,
we are everywhere, it doesn’t matter where.
No matches, no breeze, no breath to strike
up the light, no moon, no sun, no shuffling.
Absolutely still - our souls, our conscience,
what disturbs the ash of our ultimate destiny.
No one dares to whisper in this golden cage.
The ages pass by, primordials stir, Jesus is
still in his wrappings. My heart, subdued, like
earplugs in their caves. My eyes, wide open,
stand at attention, to retain the inner light.
I stand in the lake, my life jacket does not glow;
however I grow in sensation; I float upright.
We are the rests between notes. We dote on
the inky calm, not a mere closure of lids; liars,
those pair of skin divers, that blink away shine.
Sans shadows, peaking at the sublimity of time.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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