If it should happen you wake up and Armageddon has come, lie still.
― William Edgar Stafford
Last night I
saw the
moon
slip
in
and out
of golden light.
A flame burnt
ember of
gas
exploding
in my eyes.
Watching the end
of the world
no longer
feels
so
dramatic.
© Si Matta
doves whispering/ as they rest their wings/ in the rafters your silent sanctuary
― Kate Mullane RobertsonA song waning through old trees,
The length of eternity in her eyes,
Dreaming the world into existence.We sat with broken wings,
Licking our wounds,
And watching the ancient sun rise.We sat with mending hearts,
Finding strength in the wind,
And learning to fly again.In dream-
The uterus of the universe
Unfolds its flower to us.Nimble and scarred,
We drink from its nectar,
And place our hearts here.Moments are where we hide,
Where we grow,
Where we die,
And where we learn to live.The shadows of limbs,
Broken and dropping the leaves of fall
Drip on the peripheral landscapes of our inner worlds.A sanctuary of rebirth.
© Si Matta
“behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.”
— Paulo Coelho
He peels the bark
slowly from around
the knots.
And dreams of the all
the eyes that will
peer through.
Shape shifted
and dreaming.
The dance continues.
© Si Matta
Some birds are not meant to be caged, that’s all.- Stephen King
The birds whispered my name,
As I fidgeted on a cold chair,
Learning of a god dressed in thorns.
As they talked in righteous dictation,
I would pull thorny brambles from dirty hands-
Finding god in the splinters.
I remember how the rain tasted-
Dry in safe beds made from synthetic fibers.
Yet I could hear the birds whisper my name,
Telling me stories,
We forgot to tell ourselves.
© Si Matta
Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can’t strike them all by ourselves― Laura Esquivel
I use to dream,
but my well
has ran dry.
Like cottonmouth.
I often cough
on words and
pass the torch.
A flame.
© Si Matta
Never lost/ Fading slowly to Silence/ By infinite degrees”
― Ashim Shanker
The sinew of
the moment led
us to this
leather of silence.
Sometimes I forget
your name, but remember
the taste.
A distant drum-
Your heart.
© Si Matta
“His eyes were that colour you can’t see in the rainbow. Indigo.”
― Rainbow Rowell
I remember turquoise,
it tasted blue
in my mouth
as he shoved
it down my
throat.
He gushed in
my hands, unaware
of the water
I held.
© Si Matta