When you found me
I was face up in snow,
crows pecking my neck,
my voice box removed
in bloody clumps around me,
my eyes staring straight up
at clouds meant for someone else’s rain.
But you
enclosed my hand around a lightning bolt
and I stood up—
my voice a thunderclap
scattering dark birds to the storm-crackled sky.
© 2024 Jennifer Wagner
12 comments:
Strong, creative, full of life. I love your voice.
Wow! What a rising! It's biblical!
". . . my eyes staring straight up
at clouds meant for someone else’s rain"
And Poetry provides such a powerful voice it made the rain your own. I love it! The images here capture the need for and the strength of your poetry. Bravo!
Poetry is healing, deliverance and so much more. This poem is so beautiful.
my voice a thunderclap
scattering dark birds to the storm-crackled sky... beautiful..love the imagery and the close...
Wow, Jennifer, this poem is so full of power. Your closing stanza is amazing.
Yes - I love that line - "my voice a thunderclap" - Great work and i love this.
"But you
enclosed my hand around a lightning bolt
and I stood up—"....This is the work of poetry. Wow! One could feel the power and the throbbing life force in your words, Jennifer.
Poetry gives one strength to stand up and carry on.
I love the tag "minstrelsy." You, too, are a minstrel of the dawn.
"my voice a thunderclap"--- May it always be so!!
Epic, Jennifer, the heart and soul of it: revealing the power that poetry gives to live, breathe, and have a voice again, but one that scatters the devourers of the soul to the winds.
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