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Indisputably Sculpted By The Sharpened Reigns Of Emotion

by Tom Goss

I.
With the instinctual swivel of their hips,
each unwitting parent plucks their children
from the rising tide of the cosmos.

Spliced into monochromatic revelations,
this bittersweet rainbow unleashes a swerving life-arc
that staggers beautifully from savagery to refinement,
savagery to refinement.

II.
Some children
even have the eyes
of their fathers.

And of those, some celebrate it like a fruit ripening:
clutching its immeasurable heaviness
in their steadily growing hands.

Yet others tear out the pages of childhood
and burn them to ash because
their taunting eyes are not their own.

III.
Look carefully and you'll see the dark horizon
that muffles the boisterous melodies of childhood.

Listen:
that is the ring of their muted,
discordant hearts,
singing an ashamed chorus within themselves.

Though we mature with each sip from the fountain of life
grief always strides in step with our stumbling hearts,
and even in the buoyancy of our most graceful leaps,
we will never outrun it, will we?


05/21/2007

Posted on 05/21/2007
Copyright © 2024 Tom Goss

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Anita Mac on 06/06/07 at 02:52 AM

This is quite an eloquent piece, and too true.

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