In Light and Dark, Out of the Garden, and On The Path
*
In Light and Dark, Out of the Garden, and On The Path
By Jane Tawel, October 10, 2023
*
And waking up to birds in the Garden,
heard not seen.
My mouth, dry as fallen leaves,
thoughts crumbling into dust not swept away, but hoarded
A heart as dry as leaves from an ancient but desiccated Book,
falling apart.
*
My chest hurts,
fluttering helplessly,
like a trapped bird in a cage,
throbbing like a song trapped in a tunnel,
too faint to hear, yet pounding in my ears.
I struggle out of night’s tight bonds,
and the prison of sweaty anxiety-tangled sheets.
Unsolved puzzles of otherness
causing night-fears to cling to my morning,
and morning is already imprisoned
with jello-bars;
thoughts of yesterday, flabby and gel-like,
clinging to today like suckers on a beached rowboat.
