Inspired and derived from Elysskama’s Poem of Remembering
I pinned an old papyrus
to the bottom of a desk,
so that when I laid on the floor
I could read the symbols
While the wind gusted through
windows and the evening’s
light stirred the silent figures
like vibrations from a violin’s core -
a language I used to speak,
But I have forgotten, because I have
not believed lately in anything at all.
A steady deterioration into goblins,
mischief – and crooked doors
not meant to be opened at all.
I have seen that this forgetting is corrosive -
Without home, I deteriorate from inside;
and believe the only way to save myself
is to remember my home, her arches and tomes;
drifting silently amid a sea of old wounds.
A swan upon a salten sea -
hieroglyphs that trace the scars
that have long since been buried in me;
yet never cured at the root.
It’s time I’ve read them looking up.