Poem From a Broken Writer
By Abby Kelly
I felt sunlight softening soul into spirit,
Liquifying calcified dreams
Pressed dormant into crannies
Of this flesh-shell.
I felt icicles like prisms melting
Drips of radiant, golden life
Suspended from the end of despair
And soften, butter-yellow
Fall, back into this flesh-shell.
Yes, I felt sunlight soften my soul
Dripping spirit back into body
Filling, ever so slowly, back up this
I watched goals and dreams flitter
Like litter cross the street,
Fast and flimsy, uncharted, un-chased
Acorns pop beneath my feet,
Rebelling, I walk past lecture halls
I abandon shoulds and should-nots and
I refuse the notion that my pen,
My words, my voice propels
The essence of my story.
I am not the harvest of so many pages
Or the culmination of book deals,
Digital friends and lurid likes.
I am not a soul-ish creature
But spirit filled and driven,
Spirit carried and consumed.
I am an artist and a canvas,
Both a creator and a lump of clay.
So, I let the warmth of sunlight
Bake my spirit firm.
Like autumn pies, rich with clove
Fragrance wafting from this open heart and
As soul melts and drips spirit
Back into this flesh-shell,
Abba bake me in the morning rays
Of Your exquisite love
And infinite purpose.
A purpose so profound,
It is only written on a softened heart.
A purpose of worship,
In words and notebooks, pens and pages
Hearts and humanity in right this minute.
Learn more about me on my website: http://predatory-lies.com/about-me/