I am the sound. I am not the voice.
I am the empty shell. wind whistles me.
when you listen to me, you are listening to wind.
I am this much big. farther now than I can see.
bigger also seems to mean a thinner thread.
I am a fish awash on the beach. someone will find me soon.
healed or eaten. either will be sufficient. next.
I don’t know. don’t know what face wants finding now.
I know what’s left behind.
I know what never arrived.
I am the dawn with sleeping eyes. perhaps.
perhaps to know your name. a river does.
will you know mine, in first light.
2 thoughts on “first light forgiven being bold”
I loved the the timbre of this poem- so like the wind – and what else is a voice but wind blowing over vocal chords. There is much of the existential, the meditative, and the yogic wisdoms in here:
” I am a fish awash on the beach. someone will find me soon.
healed or eaten. either will be sufficient.”
Thank you Laura. Your kindness is blue sky to me.
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