I find scaffolds and pillars crumbling into haphazard walls. I find the elements of myself separated by desire, forming moats around who I am and am not – the hammer and anvil where the blade of confusion is beaten out straight. With age metal hardens or softens according to the skill of the smith. With age I will expand or contract according to the desire I forge with who I am and am not – where the blade of confusion is beaten out straight.
Elements of Age
09 Thursday Jan 2014
Reblogged this on poemsoftheinnerspark and commented:
sounds like acceptance.
Powerful!! I really like the last stanza. I believe I could read this multiple times and find a deeper meaning each time…