Thursday, 26 July 2012

Hope Floats

To my mother, who through no fault of her own, was my 'savage island'
...and to learning, and being taught: it is time to be free.

I was chained
long enough
to a savage island, dreams
hanging on a rod into the sea,
caressed by odd waves
yet always tethered and tied,
they pulled hard, and longed
to be free.
I picked at the knots that held
them fast; watching other dreams
spread wings and sails;
and I tried to launch mine, when
the monsters weren't looking,
always to trip on my chains, and sharp
rocks, and fail.

I cut my hands, and skinned
my knees, the savage island insisting
I cry and bleed, for my simplest wants
and whims;
but I only tried harder, to hold out my
dreams, to the liberating winds.

Despite my chains;
my arms and my soul;
my heart;
stayed flung open wide
and I sat on the jagged, dangerous rocks,
spurning caves where
dark secrets could hide amongst demons
that crept on the beach,
slipping silently
between lines of trees,
and howling out, in empty nights
just to frighten me, as I sat,
on my precipice, alone.
I waited there, until a small boat
drew near and saw me pulling
at my ropes,
my chains,
and my anchored dreams,
it offered me a hand, and I pointed to the sand,
where the demons cackled, behind palm leaves.
I pointed to the caves
where the secrets lurked, and silently,
the boat began to work, untying every bind
and cutting me free, it reeled in the rod
and all of my dreams; and the wind through its
sail, sighed and breathed:
"it will never matter to me..."
So lighter now, I stepped aboard,
and the boat sailed out a little way,
and moored, and the demons,
they could still be heard,
on the island,
but they could do no harm,
as my open heart and my soul
and arms, threw off
the very last of the ropes,
and I sat down and scratched
two words in the deck:

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