“Sour Cranberries”

I stayed long enough

Stood at the burning spear of waiting

Anxious to be plucked like a flower

And to perch in his roots

Yet, winds of time blew away the crown of reassuring words

 I rose from the ashes of stale promises

And I turned to the infinity of a world sans cliches

Now, in the air, roaming,

Like the mundane songs of rowdy travellers

Or the psalms of monks in a haunted cave

I’m gliding with fragrant wings of a salvaging truth

I’m free to summon disintegrated dreams

People, once, cherished the scents of

I’m free to converge on an abandoned plank;

To raise the masts of desire of whom, I desire.

I’m mine, I do not seek ownership

So cease branding my muliebrity

I can be a companion, only, or no one to you!

Dedicated to women who want to live & demand ‘alive & enlightened’ partners.


4 thoughts on ““Sour Cranberries”

  1. In spite of its nature,
    for it being a fragrance,
    free and alive in its spirit,
    its excellence is kept in a bottle,
    for world’s ready for her,
    only in small doses.

    Excellent poem, once again, with lyrically emotive rhythm…
    where poem herself can be “a companion, only, or no one to you!” 🙂

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