The Soul Rushes Not
Though I hurry to utter what cannot be said
The Soul Rushes Not
I know the signs
they pinch and spell caution
from the sidelines
lines upon lines
have I written my story
of vexing and plight
a body ruptured by light
the oily residue of time
leaks into the
soul I carry like a thief
who must stay sharp
in these violent times
these waning days
where time is approaching
serious and stark
and there is so much to do
and it cannot be done in the dark
for that is where
I will spend my days
when I must depart
that dark that shall announce
itself like light
I will not realize
till it pierces me with silence
as I become that rite of passage
and the body falls to sleep
I do not live with my wounds
but I live by means of them
by the means of this terrible thinning of skin
for I feel so keenly
the touch of every living thing
and the grammar of my life
concentrates these darting eyes
toward every living person
who has failed and still tried
as I have done so many times
through lines upon lines
with the striving search for words
my soul has no need to find
If you enjoyed this poem and it resonated with you...
Thank you for this, Kimbra. I feel so fortunate to know you not only through your music, but through your words not set to music as well. The lines quoted below especially stirred something visceral deep within me, as my soul reached out across the miles in response to your words:
I do not live with my wounds
but I live by means of them
by the means of this terrible thinning of skin
for I feel so keenly
the touch of every living thing
"that dark that shall announce
itself like light"
<333