el rio de las animas perdidas

el rio de las animas perdidas    August 6, 2016
you will die with no home,
oh child of exile,
boy from the banks of the nile.
while i
carry my home on my back
with the tenacity of a desert tortoise.

you will die with no home
in a prison no man can open.
the dictator can do nothing to you
for you have locked your heart
to the woman who is your soul.

i am the piñon tree
with roots 1,000 years old
and i am
the little wild cat
climbing the ancient bristlecone pine.
i am my own home
in this high, dry fortress of wind.

your river
may have carried dead pharaohs
and infant prophets in baskets
but i
know a river
of lost souls.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
This entry was posted in creative writing, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to el rio de las animas perdidas

  1. Oh this is beautiful: “i am my own home
    in this high, dry fortress of wind.”

    Liked by 1 person

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