Sacred was this longing; like a flame
Whitehot and purified: flaring towards freedom
Nebulous but euphoric in a mad quest for liberty;
To rebel, to fight and even maybe lose
With that sacred faultline of losers the world over:
Cracks in the surface, waiting, waiting for a kinder destiny.
Sacred was this desire: wrapped in life's energy.
It was what enabled the city lights and country earth
To course in my life's blood. When I raised my head
To look at the stars they were attainable;
When I looked at the horizon it seemed so near
I had touched rockbottom but now I could fly alone
Touched, brushed, cleansed by
This sacred longing
Copyright: Rani Turton
This is quite enthralling and indeed speaks loud with right attitudes Rani - - to get up again after reaching 'rock bottom' takes a special kind of 'sacred longing' - - - you pen this with powerful imagery.....10 + + + Fay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
when one takes the road less travelled, even if its a roller coaster ride, its worth it. Sacred was this longing, Rani is very beautiful poem, full of lovely imagery.10 Mamta