I awoke in the heat
of a blue down feathered
and pleated cocoon
sweating from the incubation
of lucid dreams and creative fire.
I awoke with a full and lusting urge
as primal as the way a woman
feels when she nurses a baby –
picks up a paintbrush – dances –
when a drum rests between her knees:
Awaken. Give form to the void
within, the deep calling to deep,
the desire to reach and touch
the white ash of the universal web
framed by an iridescent
fear of being burned.
I Awoke in the Heat
- Details
- Written by: Eileen Rush
- Category: Poetry
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