Standing Aside

You see me walking away and remark in a cutting voice –
pitched to be heard – 
how standoffish I am
she doesn’t have much spark does she…?
Look past the seedy exterior needing new paint
and some rigorous landscaping.
Look inside…..
I’m the spark that sets a forest ablaze.
I’m a volcano goddess exploding without warning
without mercy.
I’m lightning and winds that shriek down from mountains
that our ancestors prayed to and tried to placate.
I don’t waste my words on you
because once that gate is lowered
the torrent pours unchecked and your imprint may not be found for a millennium…
So I stand aside..
It’s a cold place
 a solitary place 
so familiar that my feet have worn grooves.
I let the rain fall on my face and my feelings
and wonder that my cheeks don’t steam.
The world is a wonderful place for those who don’t walk with their shadows 
but trying to find your place in the sun
can be difficult for one who melts.

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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