by Dana Janine Diamond
Poetry
is supposed
to relieve the pain
as an age-old antidote
via anecdotes
poems navigate
intricate canals
and pebble-filled paths,
sing out in riotous gardens
in praise of glorious romance
gondola rides
timeless, without direction
voices raised
to operatic arias
in all directions
over ancient rivers
and under breathtaking bridges
prayers chanting
ebb and flow, ebb and flow
gently building
invisible architecture
we sense
citrus scents surrounding us
hiding won’t write
it will only wait
you out
this life, this life, this life
when will the dreams begin
who’s to say there’s a time
and an order
the petals on the water
will drift away
more will float by
scoop them in the boat
desperate for nature’s mystery
to be near us
let the warmth trickle
through fingertips
if only we could
remember
everything
if only we could
play the film
see the sea of
everything
we could right
the wrongs in the world
we could write
the good in the world
we could believe
in ourselves
if only
we could
be feminist primitives
luminous stars
lighting our own way
we could be poets
for eternity
our souls could row
above and beyond
and through the waters
revealing our essence
to blossom
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