Bamboo leaves rustling in the fierce wind
Melodious calls to prayer at noon in foreign lands
Simple bliss in watching the sun shine it’s light upon the earth
It’s the wind, softly fanning exposed thighs
There will be no mention of darkness
Not even of blood crying out from the earth beneath ever musical feet
To name a thing is to claim it
Perhaps it is what we lacked, the naming
For our herbs, dances, food, people
Though we did name them, in tongues familiar to us
So, where did we misstep?
It seems, without power, naming is nothing
To own a thing by naming, the name must be in the language of power
And our familiar tongues had little
Cages
Fashioned to hold the unique
One for the 5 year old missing her mother
Another for the optimist
And yet one more for the faithless
Locked tight with keys to guard against the abyss
But the line fell and the abyss stepped in
Wreaking cages, letting in chaos
The girl, the abyss wrangled and tangled
Became a free, worn thing
Not quite whole and far more so
I dreamed of building an empire
Then I discovered
Empires are founded on broken backs
myrandomramblings808 