Thursday, 9 June 2011

Shell

What is it, this shell?
This brittle, unyeilding
crysalis
which coats my eyes, my ears, my mouth;
and encases my ever-knowing heart.
"Let me out
let me out
let me out".

What is it, this shell?
This diamond-cut decanter
which contains my fluid essence
My essential, ever-present truth.
"I am here
I am here
I am here"

What is it, this shell?
This protective case, this coat,
This pickle jar
I call my mind,
preserving,
keeping,
holding on,
souring the sweet
essence
with this shroud
called self.

This shell,
this soft membrane,
Hardened over time.
This opaque shell
will let light in -
I can see it
Shining through...

This shell seeks
warmth
to incubate
to allow
The skin to crack
to peel back
and make way
for Life.

           ©Lily La Loba September 2010

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