I am nomad.
Change is eternal, all is but for a moment in time.
Such is the nature of all things.
Sublime and heartbreaking temporality.
I am vessel.
Wish not to keep, crave not to possess.
Haunted vignettes one and them all.
Flows laying marks along the banks of my soul.
I am collector.
That which cannot be touched, only felt.
Vestiges burned upon mind and stored in flesh and bone.
Firmly in the present and loving fully the remnants.
Feet cast into blackened stone
Tide worn roots rise above dark still water
Gold threads sway on cerulean winds
Bones bend beneath faded kingdom
Braided onyx interlace with steel
Reptilian glare upon deep howling heart
Birds carry mimics in morning air
Pirate vines ensnare with accented tongue
Rivers of sweat drench sienna soil
Souls dense from ancient rains melt into song
There are those high places
Spaces that pierce the clouds
Where the storms in a moment might sweep
But glory looms in your wake
Risk it you may
Fear it you might
Whatever you do, do with all of you
Don’t look back at the steps you leave
Only drown in the majesty
And fall drunk with delight
Visit you must
Must you visit me?
Only if true
Only if free
There are those low places
Spaces that sink far beneath the seas
Where the light is low and the shadows play
These haunts proclaim you to stay
Play with me
Why won’t you remain?
If you should swim in these places
Beware of doubts that creep
They will demand that you give in
To own you they seek to be
Visit you must
Must you visit me?
Only if true
Only if free
Amber Curry Gracia 