At some pointthe blindfold came off.Opened a direct pathbetween the deeproots of thoughtand the subsequentbloom of inmost belief. The pinnacleof the uttermostis the intimate,sharp edgethat I seek.That place wherereality itselfcannot helpbut fall downto penitent,awestruck kneesonce it’s unyieldingrigidityfinally seesthe gleamof anotherotherworldly way. Glorioushow rapturesuddenly burstsfrom the forcefieldof the darklike the dawningbreak of a blinding day.Pouring fortha molten gold curethat sweepsthe weepingwound away. A longingfar too longexhumedlays the scriptureof screams to rest.The exposure —the crux —the nourishingsustenanceof soft,crumbling breadbroken by theearthly holdof folding,grateful hands. Watching howsymbolismdiligentlysands awaythe coarse,linear lineof the dreaded,expectationof looming due time.So shall itforever remindthat there areno definitive sidesto a center. By Jamadhi Verise, ©2022See more of Jamadhi Verse’s Poetry here. Return to Poetry Gallery
