Prose poetry
Time Giving Salve Healing all Wounds
Opening pangs of trauma and loss
Fresh as the daisies colored labeled beets, not one is withstanding truth but such the knees giving out when reality no longer exists. Willows passing bent over wrenching pain with purging Stuck at crossroads of solar plexus borders, as before triggered thought happenstance in the month of May, scattered furry friends searching for lost nuts and buried treasures like the squirrel burying and resurfacing misery untold stories as once before.
Given strength, time’s passing of another memory, ancient and wise old owl standing nearby giving council to futuristic events. Dragon’s cleansing breath is deeply rooted in the cavernous bouts with past, present, and future glances.
In a blink, thoughts fleeting fast, twas a dream hence real intensity giving meaning to the personal and collective whole. What is this reality set before me? What happens next? Matters not what is real or illusory thought. Matters only to recognize thoughts as written in stone or evanescent thoughts with the possibility of enhancing self-inflicted wounds healing beyond worldly and galactic bodies of info.
As raw as the honey gathered by worker bees and queens’ holding space, we are not bound by this reality or the next but a grandeur and expansive space within potentiality and beingness of unlabeled thought-patterns of unwritten truths.
Breathing in the glorious ether of ever-expanding possibility, breathing out yesterday and yesteryear of neuroplastic ingrained trade of thought. Opening wounds, acknowledging present bee, allowing organic healing to transpire, applying the salve of time to heal all wounds.
~Ani Po
Was at a loss with this prompt, but then a wonderful piece unlocked the word-gates to thought. Thank you Literary Impulse for this lovely prompt and thank you to today’s muse JoMae Spoelhof. You can read her story, sparking this piece, below.
Thank you Literary Impulse for this lovely prompt and for stretching my words across this page.
