Live a poetic existence. Take responsibility for the air you breathe and never forget that the highest appreciation is not to just utter words, but to live them compassionately.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Stone of a Poet- By Jenna Reimer


What should I know of death?
Drawing in a light breath,
Feeling life in all my limbs,
I stand single.
In the midst of greater shadows
I become a form beyond my solemn;
My fingers birth twisted fibers
Of coiling vines that threaten
The green-blue grassland I stand upon.
Shedding dead bark from my lips,
Red hued leaves from my hair,
My pillared body becomes a purposed bough.
Fear and forgotten trust, silence and solace
Skulls and death becomes an altar
Within my undisturbed mossy roots.

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