Irritate

Nicolas Bruno

If my heart resides

In cumulus

Will I lose my essence

The indigenous howl

Of a harlequin moon?

Will I forget the temple

Culling foreign fetishes

From a lugubrious sea?

Will I become as atmosphere

Slithering through life unseen?

 

Will I abide in discontent

Recoiling from windows

As if opportunity

Were itself a form

Of castigation?

Will I live face-down?

Waist-deep?

Limp-fisted?

Legs-askew?

 

It is fear that bids me

To dream without procurement

To hope without exertion

That heaven may grant me

An insulating reprieve

What pretext could grant me

Eternal youth?

What pretext could render me

Alone unaccountable?

 

To feel my soul shedding

Its myriad skins

To know the irritation

Of the living

The imperfection

The uncertainty

To strip the skeins

From my tethered throat

That I may recapture

The alchemy of speech

 

If a golden tongue

Let it speak of love

For the night

A requisite dawn

A feathered parting

From a timorous sleep

*

I have started to read again “Comfortable with Uncertainty” by Pema Chödrön. The beginning is about growing up and facing our fears. This is similar to yesterday’s poem same theme

 

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