and twisted arm,
sliced down the the throat,
wisdom yanked,
and chilled
in deeper, deepest places
that should have stayed
secure and vital,
toasty warm.

by rank pulled rank,
so many battles of will,
creepy traces
that perpetuated
the sense of outer
and inner storm.

Uncanny intelligence
and love
and heart
and guts
and strength
lain dormant,
hidden from the most surreptitious
of informants,
so long,
they were by none
still yet awaited,
so long past
the last moment
of possible survival
with breath bated–

But still,
re-grouped they re-emerge
to rise
past any reasoned sort of window norm,
up to the light,
more than restored,
but reborn as something new,
quite brilliantly and joyfully,
from head to toe,
and even more,
into some brand new form and spirit

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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