Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate 

Alive

you want to cage me,
but my heart is
too wild
it even evades my rib cage
i am wild and free
a spirit
that dances in the trees and stones
of the river
nature makes me feel alive;
you tell me that i need to do this and that,
but in my brain there’s a thousand
tomorrows that need
discovered
and your petty things can wait—
the dishes will be there
in the morning,
and so will the vacuum for the floors
today i’m going to jump into
the water
and forget myself
write bits and pieces and gather ideas
for my poetry and stories and
novels;
i won’t let youth be wasted on me
while i’m young—
i need to discover and to live and to love
people matter and things are to be
used:
one of the saddest things in
the chaos of the world today is that things
are loved and people are used,
but my heart
burns with a passion and a love so hot
even stars cringe from their fires
for i am summer born;
i will live and i will love and i will dream
and i will write
for these are the little things that matter and all
those chores that this and that
you insist must be done
will be there
when i need a rest from everything—
for now i’m going to live
while i’m
alive.

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