Deeper Understanding

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The moon in general abhors a vacuum,
yet somehow it comes and goes
changing names and changing faces,
as leaves curl and fall from branches in Spring;
it fills our lungs and only through breath holds,
how so you may inquire?
Placed tenderly upon unwavering magenta lips,
debris of those that had gone before – fire.

Soft rains at length adore consummation,
through and through in every drop of blood
yet they return not for many months;
it’s hard to explain.
To some, the rain makes only wet,
to others it penetrates the skin and bone–
it offers us gospel truth when the sky opens,
provided we can match up, we can hold our own.

Jaded these lips refute allegations of the world,
so gentle, so moist its impulses.
They put us in places we have never been before;
possessing the most desirable nectar imaginable–
growling and hissing
a storm that develops gradually along the road.
One’s eroticism, another’s bane of existence;
in the end it all depends upon how we decipher its code.

Dust is anything but spiteful,
it takes us from nothingness to glory–
microscopic, it awaits the next breeze to blow it away
but do we even notice?
From dust we made mountains, on dust we have treaded,
it’s just a question of how and when–
I am lost in quiet reflection;
from dust we came and to dust we shall retreat, amen.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Ewa Hauton Fine Art painting, Pinterest

Day Eight ~ A double challenge ~ L’Arora at Toads
and Pathetic Fallacy at PSU

Posted for “Play It Again” @ Real Toads

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

32 Replies to “Deeper Understanding”

  1. I enjoyed the stanza about rain, Sanaa, especially the lines:
    ‘To some, the rain makes only wet,
    to others it penetrates the skin and bone–
    it offers us gospel truth when the sky opens,
    provided we can match up, we can hold our own.’

  2. Such truth in this. And yes, we do at times make mountains out of dust and yes in the end to dust we shall all return.

  3. I appreciate how each stanza has its focal point and leads the reader on to the next. This is a poem of substance, Sanaa.

  4. And some seek the joy of splashing in the rain like a happy child, while others see only a nuisance that we need to go through to get from one place to another. I think to be a poet is to open one’s eyes to all the possibilities before us.

    1. Hahaha I simply had to my dearest, Rosemary 😀 otherwise I fear I would have lost my mind, so glad you liked it 💄❤️

  5. Magenta lips and soft rain – lovely concepts to play in the head!
    Dust. I remember that day when I read those words from the Scripture; my father’s casket before me.

  6. I understand this in many ways: “To some, the rain makes only wet,
    to others it penetrates the skin and bone”
    We had much rain last year – more than we could bear.
    Thank you for another hit, Sanaa.

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