Everything Under the Moon

A room heavy with purpose
Wide eyed to the brim
With words woven gently
From voices within.

The wind felt it could
Quicken here, quietly
Leaves of poetry
Gather near, silently.

Eyes held and kept closely
Seared by the sun
Corners and alcoves are
Still poised to run.

Melody rise, unguided
Unknown to the flightless
Tumbled in, as sunlight
Foreboding and sightless.

And a ripple as water
Under up and through
Bedrock of known islands
Contrasting anew.

Rushwater cast from moonshell
Glittering, roiling surge
Upfelt through their spines and
Their trembling words.

Fingertips basking, bathed
And upturned to the sky
They cracked and they caved
Just closing
tired eyes.




I'm not sure when I wrote this, but I remember why. I was struggling heavily with anxiety at the time. I was overwhelmed with feeling that in order to achieve my goals I needed the vigour that anxiety grants me, and knowing that this isn't a sustainable way to operate. That wave is still crashing, so I felt compelled to share this with you. Thank you for reading it (:

Struggle is a great muse. Thanks for sharing.