Inner Deluge

Pent up
Like a cork in a dam
Or the hole in the canal
Pissing water in jets
Like when you shwish an arc
Of it out through between two
I have a pent up
Wall of water
Ready to drench the
Land below the table line
I wring my hands in my skirt
Beneath the table top
Clenching my thighs on a
Too high stool, waiting
For the deluge on the other
Side of silence
I have kept it like a
Passenger accompanying precious cargo
I have soothed it like a
Mother intent on
Pacifying her unruly hair
I have befriended it like a
Liar mistrusting the very air
It steals from me,
Waiting always waiting
For a sign that it's time to bear
The weight of the water
Upon the fields of my tilling,
The soaking of emotion
And the landscaping of new life

Poetry by Maija Liepins
Read 742 times
Written on 2018-12-26 at 13:50

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