Monday, November 24, 2014

Case Study No. 1693: The Fish Librarian

The Fish Librarian
2:18
A poem I wrote for Jesus.
Tags: The Fish Librarian Poetry
Added: 2 years ago
From: anastasiafish
Views: 24

I think a lot about the past
I cast my net into the vast sea of memories
And pull out just one fish at a time
I turn it over and over in my hands
Feeling its salt sting the slits of my eyes
And the cuts between my fingers
I dwell on its gilled skin and glittering scales and gallant scars
I hold it altogether
Even still
As it wriggles and writhes
My hands wrapped around it pounding body
As it begs to be forgotten to the rotten flotsam
On the surface of the merciless sea
But I can't let it go
No I can't let go of a memory
Because it's a fish in the library of my mind
Where I find all the salt water books
That make up the ship-wrecked parts of me
I think a lot about the past
I sit cross-legged in the crows-nest at the top of the mast
Trying to outlast the water
To be only the daughter of the unsurpassed king of the sunsets
To be swept away by the waves of his grace
To face a place of my father's embrace
Without disgrace
And erase any trace of the fish librarian I have become
I wanna fly with the birds
The first time I heard one sing
I knew there was power in its choral word
And it stirred within me
The absurd and undeterred desire to soar
I wanna be a speck on the back of a comet
The ribbon on the tail of a kite
The soft glow that tracks a firefly through the night
Arms flung wide
Hair flying widely behind
Trying to grasp it all
I wanna be as regally free
As the eagles and the seagulls
Because I'm a daughter of the king
A princess bird
So I've been assured
Loved by the lover of my fish librarian soul
He's the master of my memories
The captain of my ship
The salty hands that guide my sails and mend them when they rip
He's given me wings and cut my strings
And traded me for the things
That sting the slits of my eyes
And the cuts between my fingers
And nothing
Nothing lingers
But the salt-spray scent of one who spent time
Soaring over the froth and brine of the glistening sea
Nothing but free

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