Visions of great fortress rock foundations
crumbling before my eyes
the very mortar flows out like dust in the breeze
One can peer out through the gaps
until the great walls slowly begins to shift
crumbling thunderously to the ground
A great grinding dissonance
until, at long last, dust silently settling
once again stepping exiled into the solitary desert
Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
June 2019
Herb, this is so powerful!
“Though we think of belonging as static, the healthiest forms of togetherness allow for, and even require, periods of exile or separation in order to mature.” A quote from Toko-pa Turner!
Beautiful! It resonates with me—periods of separation. The introvert’s oxygen.
Just so