Silence can grow roots
on the tongue, leaf agony
on branches fed distance
and questions ignored.
In the straining agony to reach
a love song night buries the sun
beneath ribs that have turned
from cradle to heart’s prison.
When sullen stillness robs love
of its rose blush, it's a dandelion
that will blossom from thorns if the
spirit will not pluck it from its garden.
The yellow shaman of survival
will open the unknown and teach
the soul how to survive when a lover’s voice
chooses the path of ghosts.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Comments