Splinters
It cuts into your skin,
piercing the sustenance of what lies within,
it mars your flat surface,
a spark erupting from your furnace,
it is a virus in your body,
coughing and wheezing in tumultuous cacophony,
it is a shatter in your glass,
a wasp nestling betwixt flowers in your vase,
it dwells in the dark crevices of your mind,
scared to give away its position, hard to find,
it itches and claws at your soul,
eager talons sharpened, gouging all,
it blends in with your light,
enough to leap out unawares to fright,
it is the nagging feeling in your brain,
that consciousness of energy that came…
…from clarity of realisation of this muddle -
that life is such a complicated, time-consuming puzzle:
Splinters, pull them out.
(c) Craig Gilbert – Taken from the book ‘A Gathering of Wings’