"From Inside An Open Grave My Lily Did Escape"

"From Inside An Open Grave My Lily did Escape"

Lily opened her eyes from sleeping
lest death take her ore
and rob her of her own breath
this grave
opened up toward hope.
Remembering all
in conflict
wound or victory
thus
Lily spoke:

"Let me be a snowflake
drift in the wind
connect with the atmosphere.
Solace
solace
floating till I reach another wound
past this one.
This one is too hard.

Healing.
Let me know that space
no one around
freedom to dance over oceans
feet never even touching
its liquid whispers
at all.
Yes
I want to fly that high.
I don't care what you say.

I met a sea lion once
he sang along with me
as I ran across the beach.
At first I felt afraid
as magic entered too close.
How could I possibly be that free?
And then?
I melted into it.
Not one other soul around
to deny me
my own tongue
worrisome
broken
setting boundaries
silent to forbidding
if only for a time.

Am I strong enough
To get that back?
Does the breeze tell me I'm OK?
Am I thirsty enough
to stretch past my own clauses?
Am I visible
to me
at all?

How black can the sea be?
How far is the sky?
Might I capture those stars?
How empty, how full
how long
how many times will I commit
to being my own self?

Stars do turn in different directions
within their same galaxy.
Perhaps I am too judgmental.
Wouldn't that be OK
for me too?
Choices to not just embrace
but become their living shadows.

The mystery combs my hair
cleans my body
brushes my teeth
scrapes every single barnacle
away
when I let it.

How lonely is that dragon
or is he in fact
really OK?
Has he gone on to march in parades
under the sea
without me?
Is it really true
what doubters say?

Silver Strand
forever glistening
I hear it still
and I need to
get back.

There is a sandcastle there
the tide cannot overtake it
the magic forever saved
deep inside
my mind.
Dragons yes
they live forever.
And everyone else is a lier.

In moment of doubt
transgressions plotted
It crossed my mind.
It's maybe true
what insecurities say
I might just be addicted
to every unknown fall.
Unsure
standing still I see them
attaching themselves to me
stubborn on my face
will I ever recognize my soul?
Will I ever come up for air?

Masked recusers died in the Fall
I saw them changing
their minds.
All of those promises
dropping to the ground
brown
raked up
and burned before winter.
Singing
earthquakes come here too.

I wanted to run
to that other side they talk about.
With blood in my ears
I realized
they were mistaken
plagued
by their own determination
that was actually indifference
to love.
Because
oh
they forgot to be kind.
I thought that was the message.

No matter
a dragon awaits me
I felt him breathing
once
on the Silver Strand
Tis not a poor desert flower
in a jar.
No.
I set my table
candle lit
messages unmarred.
And each and every breath
I now take
reflects a sacred note.
My dragon lives forever
with in that grave and out."

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
28 August 2008

My career has ALWAYS been art. It has up and downs, for creativity is a very tempestuous lover. Some days I hate it, but I cannot help myself. I succumb to its relentless outbursts that include too many colors to ignore. Not always perfect but always striving.

Be sure to check out my Squidoo lens: Fantasy Art Woman|Beautiful Women Goddess Art:
http://www.squidoo.com/kathysart


Do you Twitter? Here is mine: http://twitter.com/kathysart

The image is "Bronze Nude 1" 24x36 oil on canvas. It can be found at Barebrush:
http://www.barebrush.com/Artists/ALB43e.html

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