Sunday, March 13, 2011

2011.3.12

this too
shall pass

but
for those
whose soul
was sliced
concaves
are labyrinth

hardly able
to replenish
nor mend
alone

to you i extend
that which i can:

outstretched arms
to swaddle

thought-cushion
for comfort
replete
with all manner
of sentiment

loving dentelle veil
& belief in satin
tomorrow

i call upon
peace
to land

over all.




6 comments:

Wine and Words said...

This was lovely. My grief feels this cavernous, as though I cannot possible cross it. And yet somewhere in the small recesses of my brain I do know that all things pass. Nothing lasts forever, even pain. I love your thought-cushion comfort. It is exactly as you stated...a loving sentiment.

Thank you Noxy.

Old 333 said...

The soul as murex/sliced in two? This occurred in my mind, in stanze 2. Thanks for the poem, NoxAlio!

PG

Nevine said...

What a lovely thought... most needed... especially now. Sometimes it is the arms extended that heal the deepest wounds.

Nevine

Noxalio said...

Annie, i can't help but to think it's going to get worse before it gets better ... a sinking feeling ... i hope i'm wrong.

Noxalio said...

Peter ... murex ... wow ... an interesting take ... as always.

Noxalio said...

hello Nevine ... it's been a long time ... and yes, especially now ... (outstretched arms are necessary) ...

hey, i hadn't seen your other blog ... i like it a lot (the raw and more personal side) ...

btw, my sincerest congrats re: recent events / change back home, i have my fingers crossed that it leads to a better future and does not unravel once the euphoria subsides ... what turmoil, eh? ... especially next door ... that one, i'm afraid is bound to get nasty before it settles ... sigh ...

thanks for stopping over (and don't be a stranger, ok?)

noxy