There’s an ocean of shame
the size of a mountain
churning and gulping
inside my chest.
Will I dare
climb this mountain’s core?
Sweetness the size of a mountain
but I will not drink of its pleasures.
Clawing the steep paths in austerity
I miss, and misinterpret the
peach and apple blossoms that might linger
in delicate curves, suggesting joy.
Instead, I see a volcano, nay a meltdown,
or storms of hurricane force dark.
Dare I surrender
to this weight in my chest
that pushes me down, of
the pressure of what it might take
to claim this mountain top for my own?
.. this epitome of existence
and endlessly reaching in,
seeking in calm.
There is a flame of dark fluid passion
shouting loud from the peak of its heart.
The mixing of murky chemicals,
pitch in the deep of the dark,
bring hope in the untangling.
Paths are twisting,
fortunate blessings hidden
from war torn eyes.