The New Gods

The other day, 
I caught myself thinking, 
Wondering whether the old Gods, 
Still walk this earth. 

Do they anymore dwell,
In the din,
Of our shuddering cities? 
Or is the fuel for the fires,
The flames in our engines, 
All that remains,
Of their lifeblood we drained?

In the dust, ash and grime,
It is hard to find, 
Marks of the divine, 
When these desolate lands, 
Like the bent broken backs,
Shells of their bodies, 
That still stand. 

Maybe the old Gods are lost to us, 
We've been left abandoned, 
To perish by the torments, 
Of our own devices.

Yet we need to hold on, 
To hope,
That hiding in the breeze, 
And the shades of trees, 
In the gurgle of a cool stream, 
Are the new Gods, 
Gods who will rise to reclaim this earth, 
Gods who will heal the creation we've hurt, 
They who will lead us to rebirth. 

Love, Undefeated.

This time, last year, 
I'd been writing about love, 
As something that could only be, 
Spoken about in abstractions, 
A feeling which, I feared, 
I'd never again encounter, 
Blooming inside my barren heart. 

Love seemed to dwell in my poetry, 
Like a shadow that was just out of reach,
Words stained by the remains, 
Of what I ached for, 
And couldn't find. 

But now that I can breathe again, 
Feel the heart in my chest beat again, 
See my mouth open in laughter and kisses again ( Oh the kisses! ) ,
And notice her touch warm my blood, 
I know fortune has smiled once more, 
I have found what I thought I'd lost, 
I am in love once more.

The love that she has granted me, 
Makes me feel ageless and pure, 
I feel boundless when I look into her eyes,
Her love gives meaning to my life.

Revive

It's been a while, 
Since I've written some poetry,
And I think I know why,
That words now elude me.

Over the years, poetry,
Had become for me, 
A way to survive,
    The hell inside,
A silent scream for help, 
Words that hoped to be heard,
All the cries that they held.

I had learnt those words so well,
Words of sadness and pain, 
That when you arrived, and the hurt ebbed, 
I  was left unprepared and ill-equipped, 
Stranded with phrases that didn't fit. 

Can you tell,
That I am trying to write something happy?
That I am once again learning to smile?
And I am looking for words anew, 
That let me show you, 
The light and the joy,
That inside me rises once more.

I am in love, 
I have the strength,
To not drown in the deep, 
In the sea of darkness that I've let,
Lap on the edges of my soul.

I am happy, 
And I am alive, 
Maybe now I will find words that glow,
Write a little poetry,
With lines that flow,
To honor what you've made me see,
That I am revived, 
At a place where we can thrive.

A Pile of Lines

At every hint of hurt,
And every sign of pain,
I've turned to poetry,
Turned myself into poetry,
Bleeding words, in meaning sparse,
Over and over, until a pile of lines,
Is the only thing sheltering me.

I haven't been feeling much of late,
The silence of my heart has been,
Disconcerting,
Shallow, dreary days, and the burden of fate,
Had me thinking,
There was no more to bleed. 

But I need the words,
I need the verses,
Today, I need every letter,
That I can muster,
To stem the torrent,
That threatens to flow,
From under the scabs on my heart,
Stirs raw, uncontained,
Grief from long ago,
Stains the links of the fetter,
That I so urgently strain against.

Words, fickle words,
To soften the blow,
I turn to poetry again,
To keep myself from going insane.

Silence II / Nornir

At the foot of the world tree, 
Sit Urðr, Skuld, and Verðandi,
Tending the sacred Yggdrasil,
With the waters of Urðarbrunnr, 
The wise maidens three.

The Norns, they're called,
Daughters of giants old, 
In silence they braid,
Weave and untwine,
And snip the strands,
When it's our time, 
Of the threads of our fate. 

It is said when the Norns,
Work two threads into one,
The lives tied, converge,
Their destinies merged.

My heart is quiet,
Of late,
Not from sorrow, nor from fear,
I converse,
But not in the words of haste,
In the silence of the empty room,
I listen to the sounds of fate.

For if the threads of our lives,
Are being woven with each other,
I pray the Norns work the knits,
Close together,
And fashion the yarn to last.

That in our days to come,
There is peace, 
That we seek honour,
There is hope, and joy, 
Our hearts kept safe from hurt,
Our flow of time in concert.