Sunday, October 13, 2013

Dying to Live

author's note:

While rewriting this poem, I asked myself, "Is this really true?  Is this really how it is?  Really?"

Finally, spontaneously, I heard myself say, "Oh yeah."


One night recently
I dreamt I stood atop
a lofty mound made
of skeletons:

a precarious perch, but
I could now see the land
for miles around.

So apparently,
my many deaths have lifted me--
have given me a new perspective

but I teeter, I totter
on what sometimes seems
so unstable--

trying to balance
I hold my arms open and out
until my chest feels
ready to burst:

still dying to live...

© 2013, Michael R. Patton
plugging my Glorious Tedious Transformation

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