Contemplation

It has nearly been a year since I have touched this blog. It feels as if most things in my life have been smeared by fog and writing has not provided the serene clarity it once gave. But on this day I call back to her and ask for the tranquility she always saves just for me.

She is sweet and somber
I call to her and she responds with eyes of wisdom
and offers her body to me as my pad and my letters dress her gently
I run out of ink while pouring out my soul and she weeps to refill my pen
I apologize for the neglect and she kisses me telling me to forget she is always here
And in that moment I confess once more to her, and inside I die as I reflect what took so long for me to remember her sweet smell.
She lays me down gently in her papyrus arms and I curl up like hieroglyphics on her walls
I ink my story stronger than the grains of sand before , my words permanently sown on her henna skin.
She whimpers as I tell her the news of the days before I used her, she frowns in jealousy of the comfort another gave in her place.
I stroke her face and comfort her letting her know that no one can hear my soul the way she does, she is the keeper of my words and her womb receives me tightly.
And as I use her as my scroll she bleeds for my whisper and I am reminded just how much I missed her.
Forgone to long I sing to her my lullaby and and promise to caress her daily, she needs me and I need her, she is the mother and keeper of my words.