Cosmos
My little ice statue.
Shaped like me,
Can you see?
When she wiggles and dances the fractures are there,
Thin lines and shattered chunks made from dispair,
As she moves, she breaks, but continues to dance.
When she bursts she chants,
Lord of Lords, King of Kings, won't you come down to bring me home?
Prince of peace, Emmanuel, I'm waiting on my knees, frozen to the bone.
Her tiny ice hands reach into the sky,
and are greeted by a butterfly.
It flits it's wings and lands on her heart,
It melts her piece by piece, part by part.
In her saltwater puddle it lands,
Forming into giant hands.
They scoop her up and pull her close,
To welcome her new home.
Shaped like me,
Can you see?
When she wiggles and dances the fractures are there,
Thin lines and shattered chunks made from dispair,
As she moves, she breaks, but continues to dance.
When she bursts she chants,
Lord of Lords, King of Kings, won't you come down to bring me home?
Prince of peace, Emmanuel, I'm waiting on my knees, frozen to the bone.
Her tiny ice hands reach into the sky,
and are greeted by a butterfly.
It flits it's wings and lands on her heart,
It melts her piece by piece, part by part.
In her saltwater puddle it lands,
Forming into giant hands.
They scoop her up and pull her close,
To welcome her new home.
To her new home-
In the cosmos.
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.