This heaviness I bear,
memories like stones,
boulders of regret,
is too much.
I crave the sky,
and the hallowed emptiness
of bird bones.
Excavate this soul,
and lift up my Icarus heart.
Hurl it high into the blue,
then let me plummet,
scorched clean by the sun,
singed salvation.
~TC 1/06
What heaviness can we bear within our own pursuit of truth
For is not the weight of our own conscious the heaviest of burdens
Each memory kept both dear or dread is stored within our head
Until a time of grand procession plays for us instead
As holidays begin the journey where emotions surly tread
Where no more can we then ignore our joy or some past dread
Eh, I’ve been trying to write a poetic response to your comment, but have not really been happy with any of my drafts so….
I really like this line best,
“For is not the weight of our own conscious the heaviest of burdens”
When something is bothering you, it can certainly feel like that at times, can’t it?
Anyways, thanks so much for your comment!
~TC