tumult

last night a blissful and frightening stone was thrown down my throat, on a knoll looking down on the tumult of waves and lights of ships, piled up like corpses on a final sailing somewhere. a confession so stark it shook a tiny creature deep in my heart or liver or lungs to unlatch baby claws from my side and come out quietly, skittishly from hibernation. stretching out its fingers it clutched at some grass before the riverbeds washed out and carried it screeching away from its soft, bloody and dank home. i am again alone in purpose for a while but happy and still full of love and so much faith you may as well call me mad. i need this for any given reason but for the biggest reason of all, the thing i can never let die or it will come back and take me with it in one final bang and i would watch the red and fire-orange tail feathers of the phoenix disappear under the moon, gone forever.