A beautiful, haunting poem on the gripping connection with another by Andrew Maudling. To see more of Andrew’s work, check out his site here.

Her Roots

Walls broken and bricks out of place.
The sound of calling from a far away land.
Ship steam fogging my vision,
Like the smoke before a volcanic storm.
It comes as lightning.
It infects my eyes.
I am blinded by the grace of another being,
Whose heartbeat becomes the very meaning of my existence.
Her mind my meaning.
Our souls conjoined.
An ever-growing numbness clears my head of anxiety.
Her roots wrap around me like tree vines,
And they hang me by my wrists and ankles,
Dangling me above a field of fire,
Supporting me; carrying me over the flames.
She is good;
She is great.

© Andrew Maudling