Last Known Surroundings

Did some writing last night into the a.m.'s of early morning. It's been a long time since I felt the need to write poetry but it always comes to me at times when I feel intense emotions of any kind because sometimes, it's the best way for me to tell my stories of life.

So, here it goes.


The tides are turning
and I'm about to fall.
The drought is ending
and Her floods grow tall.
Running, I wait and become withered where I stand.
To a small blur of nothing sinking in the sand.
I wait, running into the shadows of light
to the secrets of discovery that have given me sight.
Wake me from this nightmare!
I promise I can no longer care.
For this drought is ending.
And me? I am falling.

Falling into the catacombs of existence
we have become afraid of ourselves.
Withered by our drought, you must awaken
for Her floods are coming
and you have a chance to be forsaken.
Running, I wait in the softly sinking sand
as she tries to break my unforgiving stance.
I wait, running into the shadows of darkness
as I start to wonder Can I Ever Be Saved?
Because me? I am only falling.

Rested, I wait against the unbridled waves
as my heart dives deep and caves.
I wait rested, as my soul begins to dive
taking its next leap into a new life.
Rested, I wait to be born to a new way
cleansed from the drought with nothing to say.

My heart is weak. My soul renewed.
I am but me in this massive chaos of life.

And me? I am Reborn.