Saturday, August 31, 2013

The Tattoo - a poem

Eight feathers fall from the catcher of dreams
   four braids of gold and silver wrap the hoop,
   sweat, blood and tears adorn the sinew.

Each feather holds an amulet of existence,
   each plait a marriage to show the bounds of life,
   sweat, blood, memories and tears.

Never to be caught within the band
   the banshees screams were called too soon,
   two feathers drip with fallen tears.

The sticky web within the halo binds
   tight the nightmares of lives cut too short
   while hopes and dreams alight of lives well lived.

A charm of hope that dreams may live,
   while nightmares stay at bay,
   my siblings are a blessed lot,
   they know not what I say.

In hope their dreams may be realized
   a talisman I wear.

Forever immortalized on living skin
   a spiders web of dreams I bear.

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