Ephemeral
What my eyes have seen,
what they have yet to see.
The dimming rays of the setting sun,
the bright possibilities as it rises again.
The breath expanding my ribcage,
making it cave in again, as it escapes.
Like a wave crashing against a shore,
settling, before shifting into the next one.
The face of the moon slowly filling itself,
before drowning in the shadow of the sky.
I face my own past’s destruction
and reinvent myself in an other light.
The double paced sound of a clock,
mimicking the one of my heartbeat,
sets racing thoughts in motion;
my existence is temporary.
Memories that I carry permanently
are the only thing keeping me together.
Marks of time remain etched on my skin,
proving I am exactly where I need to be.
Posted Jan 23, 2022, 12:50 AM UTC
24
ah, this poem is a breath of fresh air. the imagery is akin to what I find appreciation for in life, yet it incorporates movement which i fall into. i really appreciate the regular rhythm it has, helping me to read it with greater ease.
the poem uses the simplicity of life and gives them beauty
well done.