defragging the sagging songness of sadness.

ferocious ocean dipped in a tumult you sky,
long lost perching on the edges of things.
they're throttling the flock!
i reject the lot,
demand the tearing down of masks and manuscripts,
prescriptions for ways of being
not emergently my own.
resist! remain wallowing and blooming in the nomad-land.

today i snaked a left at the second flowerpot,
curiously the light shifted, and my coiled heart
dropped straight down and dripped into the bosom of the earth.
it then emerged from the ground and merged with air,
soothed the thunderclouds and brought me up there.

© 2008 : Jenny Ryan