August 3, 2021
 |  30 Comments

Consecrated loaves know nothing of conflict;
being birthed from the earliest of corn,
does anyone ever speak of heartbeat, of breath, of how
it holds one hostage?
At times the seasons forget to regard her at all;
Persephone, goddess, muse and a hymn of sorts,
with lips shaped like a bow and a temperament to match—
bleeding through into tomorrow,
apricot wanderings, but oh when the ribcage cracked open,
in the silence of the night,
her own tresses fell into her eyes, one would think her as
unloved, even though desire ran in rapid rivers,
who can explain any of it?
Solitude is the place her mind frequents the most;
with a verse of wistfulness watch as seeds are sown,
should by any chance you think of her under a grey cloud,
lose yourself in language,
like brushing one’s fingertips across wheat grass, allow eyes
to sweep everything in sight;
perhaps, we are meant to evaporate in each other, in heat,
in storm, in consistent flow of emotions unresolved.
Daylight disappears and she’s planted in the Underworld;
from Autumn to Spring,
meadowsweet, mint and sunflower is gathered,
she longs for someone to kiss loneliness away from her being.
I, poetess on the other side of the world write her name,
honey-spiced syllables for when the wind sighs,
they say Persephone willing chose her fate, but who knows?
In unyielding circumstances will you choose to go blind or evolve
to fight your own share of darkness?

 

 

 

 

Photo credits: “Balance,” by Aaron Westerberg 48×32 painting, Pinterest

Sarah hosts at dVerse and invites us to write a poem inspired by the legend
of Persephone. Come join us! 💝

Posted for Poetics: Persephone @dVerse Poets Pub