Pain is not the needle in my eye.
Pain is not scars, not the knot
of my veins. Pain is not a petal
steeping in boiling rain
as wind mocks the shutters.
Pain is the firm of the ground.
Tears are not underground.
Tears are not in my eye
that doesn’t even shutter.
Tears are not pain. The knot
pulls tight wrings out rain
down the face of a petal.
Rest is not the failing petal
finally landing on the ground.
Rest is not inside when it rains.
Rest is not shutting my eyes.
Rest is the wind in a knot
unsettling the shutters.
Purpose doesn’t shudder
as it brushes off a petal.
Purpose isn’t the resting knot
nor is it tangled on the ground.
Purpose is the unscathed eye
in blurry rain.
Power is not looking at the rain
as if I could make it shudder
as it drops on my eye.
Power is the petal
hovering above the ground
with its stem in a knot.
Pain is not a powerful knot
nor is it the meteorite rain
breaking my ground
as the earth merely shudders.
Pain is the vein of a petal,
braining like the pupil of an eye.
Tears are not painful like shutters
on windows. Tears are the rain
from the wind in my eyes.
March 22, 2019 at 4:09 pm
So it took me a few reads to understand how this was resonating with me, and why I was getting choked up. I think pain can be physical or emotional. Physical pain always triggers an emotional response, and sometimes that emotional response in turn manifests physically in the body. Like how stress causes tension headaches, for example. The emotional pain leaves the deepest of wounds, and it’s been a journey to learn how that kind of pain or those scars are showing up in my life. Just thought I’d share… I really liked this one.
March 25, 2019 at 4:23 pm
Thanks so much for appreciating this poem and reading for meaning — means a lot!