Emily Winters                                                                                                               

Where the Mountains Bloom

I wish someone would tell me,

Whisper the secret formula of life

Trailing words down my vulnerable tunnels

Deep where the walls shiver with mouths on empty ears.

Empty hearts are a thing of common nature

But nature is blind to me.

The trees caress wrists

And cross ankles with companions of the sky

All while planes chase winged specks across the canvas

Twirling puffs of smoke

Signals

To signal my imminent demise

Yet the hand-delivered invitations to the send-off of the timid of heart

Never reach their destinations –

Windows shut against the messengers

And eyes clawed out to avoid the stare of pity.

 

Untempered steel

Raindrops of blood that pool around our feet

Rising red river

Carry away my coffin

To somewhere

The where where life shan’t be so hard to digest,

The place under the fading sun and decimating moon

Where the buzzards and mountains bloom,

An eternity of solitude

Far from prying fingers of curiosity

Far from gulps of guilt

Far from the deniers

And the lost-wanderers who only serve to mix me up more.

Will you show me the way?

To the holy land where the red fern grows?

Will you send me sonic-pulses of heat

To warm my soul,

And encrypted messages to guide my coffin where to go?

The trees shy away from the impending toxins

That come with the crimson of the sea

And the screeching sirens that arrive with me.

Nature naturally shies away from me.

Will you tell me then,

The secret formula of life?

A few words about how to get by

How to slip by everyone

All the bodies that clog the sacred shores

All along the water’s pathways

Deep in the desert where the people grow.