The day's fingernail scratches.
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The day's fingernail scratches.
I defend myself.
My words shrink into breaths.
To fit the flame
of the boundless blue sky.
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The height holds back the noise.
The tone removes injustice.
Of prayer.
Not a scattering of wings in the center of the temple.
Discretion.
Thoughts shine... the sound of the bell shines...
breath shines... You shine.
In my eyes.
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Let the swarm pass.
Of thoughts that are not birds.
You are the nightingale.
That glorified the majesty of the Spirit.
The boundless. The indivisible.
The debts of yesterday are erased.
And the marks of tomorrow fade. So they won't bleed much.
From the bleeding fingernails of the day.
Tomorrow will be better.
About the Creator
Manuel C.
I have been searching for my soul for years through writing, but I know that in the end, I will find it beside a river.
If you like my creations, leave a kind comment and I will gladly reply to you.
Pandora’s Burden
“My brother warned me to not accept gifts from the one who commissioned you,” said Epimetheus to the woman clad in silvery raiments standing at the entrance to the temple. Her silver tiara and the silver rings on her fingers and toes glinted in the firelight cast by torches set on either side of the doorway. Lingering in the shadows, beyond the reach of the flames as she was, he could not tell what she held in her hands. At first what appeared to be a box was perhaps a funerary urn, or maybe merely an apple.
By J. Otis Haas6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
👑🩸👑⚔️👑🔥👑🕯️👑🖋️👑 WOW 👑🩸👑⚔️👑🔥👑🕯️👑🖋️👑 Love it
Manuel, these 'fingernail scratches of the day' of yours hit right where they should. We all carry those scars, but you’ve laid them out so well in your silence. That image of the swarm of thoughts that are not birds is especially powerful—I really felt that. Tomorrow will truly be easier after verses like these. Great reading you!