Wednesday, January 18, 2012

By Sunday


By Sunday

By Sunday,
a thin veneer,
all that remains
of my shell
I built,
to protect myself
from the world.

By Sunday,
it has worn
membrane thin,
scraped away in layers
by life's daily upheaval,
dark forces
without and within.

By Sunday,
I feel bumped,
bruised,
rushed, pushed,
pummeled, abraded,
irritated,
discouraged, heavy,
I drag chains,
my hope wanes.

By Sunday,
I long to wander
deep in the woods,
get lost completely,
swallowed by the trees,
breathe pure,
be alone,
meditate, center,
rebuild my soul,
shore up walls,
that wear down,
membrane thin,
by Sunday.

8 comments:

  1. But aren't some weeks good? I hope so! ♥

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    Replies
    1. Unfortunately, working in retail sales wears on me greatly. There are always good moments that make up for it and I cherish them, believe me!

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  2. Damn! That's my Sundays. It sounded weary and exhausted. I don't know how you do that with words and spacing...it's amazing.

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  3. Those days are important when stress and work tear deep into the soul.

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    Replies
    1. shew yeah i have felt those days when everything has just been worn thin...often i retreat into the woord just for the loud silence on those days...

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  4. Enjoyed this wonderful write.. put be back to those days...

    Shashi

    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya
    http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2012/01/whispers-haiku-on-how-i-write-poetry.html
    At Twitter @VerseEveryDay

    ReplyDelete
  5. Très beaux poèmes et blog vraiment intéressant.

    Roger

    ReplyDelete