Rebloom

Shahid

Morning came and hid the sun
A latticed veil upon the land
I kiss the rainsmell at my feet

Water forms upon my hand
Guidance freckles on my pores
A sacred pattern pointing north
The iron gate would need a fee

—

The words know where we need to go
I shed some toll and follow suit
I crest the jumbled steely vines
A sinewy linescape of silent doubts

We’re here now
Breathtaking

—

In the edge of my sight, there’s a glitch in the still
The air is stifling a breeze
Why do I feel so itchy?
A barren bed beside the edge
The view though … beckoning

I flick a pebble off the edge
The air stares at me
I rub my neck

My finger stops itching
I hold up my hand
A drop delicately joins the dirt Where my hand was before
A bloodflower blooms

I walk to the breeze, still wrestling for life
It takes from me and bests the air
It only escapes for a. Breath

How much blood could my bloodfingers bleed?
How many breaths could a breeze squeeze away?

I rake the bed.
“Don’t be afraid,” the wombvoice beckons.
My feet swinging over the chasm.
Fingers dig into the bed.

I sit there a while
Pinning the ground
Having it out with the air

Enough
I reach for the sky
It’s never or now
I delicately join the abyss

—

Inhale
The stillshine touches all I see
“Who are you?”
The wind wants to know

“I’m going to find out”
I sprout, rebloomed