the inescapable call
my legs
their journey
a paper crane
tossed through glass
brewing perfect storms
my soul did not flinch
tribal drums coax
wild flickers
from a distance
it's a jungle in here
© 2014-Rene
for Magpie Tales
There was a haunting beauty behind her eyes, beyond her sorrow, a beauty that found its way into one’s heart and led them home.
Good one, Rene!
ReplyDeleteWonderful!
ReplyDeleteZQ
Vivid and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteVery nice, as everything you write delights.
ReplyDeleteAn inward or outward journey, It's delightful that the lures are there despite the initial crane through the glass and despite the jungle. Go. That's important.
ReplyDeleteAnd so it is.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
This one really drew me in !
ReplyDeleteThis really drew me in !
ReplyDeleteAlways enjoy your scrumptious textures...
ReplyDeleteI feel there's some chaos theory in here. Perhaps we all impose our own experiences upon poetry? Indigo x
ReplyDelete