Zenith, Broken
thoughts on a barefoot bush walk
Great and mighty boulder of hard stone
Who formed your size and power?
By what hand and for what purpose?
Have you been here since the beginning?
Yet, still in your greatness you have broken
What chance then do I have to remain whole?
If one as you has been cracked and split by the world
Compared to your countless years standing
My days are mere grains of sand falling
How did you break? What force did this to you?
What would that same force do to me?
For next to you I am tiny, small … nothing
Yet I am still standing, damaged but whole
Truly even the timeless greatness of stone
Is not beyond breaking and cracking from life
But I remain here … somehow not broken
For there is no rock like our solid rock
No rock like our God
About the Creator
Savannah K. Wilson
She/Her | Australian 🏳️⚧️ Author
Queer and all class with a touch of sass! (or maybe the reverse!)
short stories, poetry, life experience
Keep reading
More stories from Savannah K. Wilson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Field of the Fallen
Sunlight danced softly across the frost-crusted fields, making the little blades of grass sparkle like emeralds. The faraway chirrup of a songbird was the only disruption to the quiet of the morning. An icy chill, the last vestige of the dying winter, clung to the air, settling in a thick white mist at the far side of the open field. The heavy stench of decay hung in that mist, punctuation by the sharp tang of freshly spilled blood.
By A. J. Schoenfeld7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
This was extremely profound and very powerful! Loved your poem so much!
Somehow not broken! This was so good.
Very powerful! Loved the symbolism.