Anew Again
This return to purity
--a slow, redundant walk
through mud I will always
know--
is cherished by the
most masochistic part
of my spotted heart.
The hot water bubbles
and makes me think
of gluttony
--the starving man's
delight.
But rising again
from the steaming bath
my shoulders burn
with the scalding necessity
of spotlessness
--before You.
And I step out to make
the loop of life
again.
1 Comments
Audrey Camp
I'm an American expat and freelance writer living in Oslo, Norway with my husband. I love language, adventure, dogs and classic movies.
Of all the creative muses, emotional extremes are the most reliably called upon. But who could predict that technology would let one so poetically bear their soul, and in such a risk free way? Complete transparency is possible, safe even, for words that generalize away from the events that shaped them. With blogs, anonymity of authorship has given way to anonymity of circumstances, and eye contact traded for the shelter of one's laptop.
For second-tier friendships, deep sharing and worrying about what others think used to be at odds with one another. But now, only if one hangs their words on the mobile of context will others see the awkward lopsidedness caused by the weight of underlying issues. Those imbalances are for some, but not all to see. Thankfully, blogs gives rise to creative outlets that otherwise would not be risked, and we can extend our circles of confession and response.