Furious

I didn’t come into the world 

With a shower of pumice and a head full of hair 

To sit idly in my tracks waiting for 

Trains to come through. The crystalline air, 

choking and grey, said “I’m here, a child of the earth, 

but not bound to subtlety.” 

My mission, from the start, has been

To pull out by the roots what had laid dormant

To examine the dust of millenia with my microscope eye and exclaim, 

“This is the world as we’ve known it 

And yet rarely seen. This is the plasma of our barbaric blood, 

The sigil of the escape we thought we made

Only to realize we’d brought it all when we

Stopped running and quieted our breath.” 

Enemies stood against me, even the sky and the crashing sea

Because no one can stand alone;

They shook the foundations, they rattled their stations, 

And still I stayed with my glassy eye and cold

Bones. They couldn’t sway 

What a resolute heart had created. 

They couldn’t say a word – 

On my right side stood truth, whom they knew

But refused to speak to. 

Hand in hand, we walked up that crumbling slope, 

Scraping talus from between our toes, 

Laid our incantations on the ashy breeze

And with one difficult breath became a whole being

That ran from the turgid volcano

Home. 

written 09.18.19

Find more of Eden’s work at Moth Traces.

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