Is I Am

Is I Am

1920 1271 Julia Putzke

 
From this valley,
He whispers: look
up at the bowing flowers
low enough for you to pick.
My fragrance to hush the bidding
tears away. It is okay to cry,
a slave you no longer are to me.
I know this place feels as if you have
been put in a hospital.
people rush on, look with apprehension
as to what could be wrong.
How could someone want
to bleed that long?
Have to?
I’ve seen your tears,
heard your cry as you keep
your eyes to the sky.
You want to be captured in my love; a moment of pure bliss continuing on the hinges of grief held far too
long. Only hope is I AM.

 

Julia Putzke

Julia Putzke lives in Georgia. Her view on life may be sideways to some, quiet and contemplative even, but it may something to do with staring at the sky for long periods of time. She also loves life talks and Chai tea. You can find her writing poems every Friday on her blog, crippledatYourtable.wordpress.com, along with occasional book reviews. She has one book of poetry, He Bled, My End, which you can find on Lulu.

All posts by Julia Putzke

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