chagall backdrop

The gate on the garden is locked for now
Severely deficient of oxygen
Vertical drops of meltwater cascade
A place for rebel angels to unleash
Wrath, do damage to primary organs
Commonly formed when the river is young
God, are you there? Do you hear me calling?
A strong knee on my belly choking me
The watercourse races, pulling me down
While she ponders her reflection in glass
Blood flow ceases to the brain, thankfully
Over time carved deep, we recede upstream
To a fruitless and barren place we pass

© Chagall 2014

Advertisements