Saturday Poem
Drawing the Bridge
She wanted to pour herself into the silence between them,
like ink over the white paper,
drawing a bridge that they transversed dancing together.
She wanted to penetrate the thick armor
with which he had shielded his heart,
like water falling through cracks and crevices, softening the sharp rocks.
She wanted to melt her own harshness,
like a warm sun caressing a snow-covered peak.
But the silence extended between them, a love story being erased.
His armor grew thicker as he turned away.
She herself was brittle, prickly, untouchable.
She remembered the exotic fruit in the Caribbean Island,
the one they had to peel off slowly because the outer layer was poisonous.
She remembered how sweet and soft the pulp was.
Her voice became soft and sweet,
but her words became sharp in the inside,
so that they peeled off her thick barbs and exposed her soft, aching truth.
He turned towards her, surprised.
His voice became deep and bare
as his words also undressed his pride
to expose the underbelly beneath his armor.
The bridge was drawn
and though they did not move an inch nor danced together,
the distance disappeared.
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Maria Mar©2014
New York, NY
August 19, 2014
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Maria Mar is a Sacred Storyteller and shaman who champions you to change your old limiting story to create the new story of your brilliance illuminating the world. She helps you awaken your magic, express your creative genius, embody your purpose and live your potential now.