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The wasteland

May 14, 2019

​​​​

Quaking and vibrating  

in this body, mine 

giving myself permission, and  

 

if I just had words to capture it; 

if words were my only tool. 

And if it wasn’t you, it was love 

 

the earth that shook  

and the shattering cry  

we couldn’t bear to hear;  

fearing hard.  

 

“They say - 

love takes you through hell” 

I heard someone sing. 

 

I’m on the other side now  

missing you profoundly  

noticing your absence quietly  

in moments spent without. 

 

And I wonder about your life; 

father, son and boy  

from this far shore; 

my home, knowing you are gone.  

 

It was a kind of violence  

that ending, 

a severance of us, 

as if we’d never been. 

 

And the closeness I felt  

is replaced by nothing. 

 

Yet I am there and it is in me; 

that love, it’s mirror. 

Convex to your concave, 

printed on my skin. 

 

Jobs everywhere, here 

for thawing hands  

and a heart that has despaired. 

 

But the mammoth task  

the mountain within 

cannot be conquered by stealthy limbs, 

 

only through letting go, 

can I learn it’s holds; 

that beautiful paradox.

 

And I must bravely trust  

in that which I do not know, 

like your intentions.. 

 

knowing words which break  

can also make 

like a Phoenix, rising from the flames. 

 

And hope that my soul might leap 

from the wasteland,  

where it fell.  

 

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© Zoe Catherine Kendall 2019, Fine Artist