I’ve discovered the meaning of life by Abigail George

The air is sweet here, and I am filled

    with a sudden longing for you. It just
    didn’t work out and you’re a ghost now
    from novel memory. I feel the stillness
    of the stars through me. And I wait, and
I wait for the exit out. I thought I would
break but I didn’t. The sun glares and
suns1_400glares and glares at me, while the love of
my life stares me down. Veins branch
out in my heart, but I am still me. I think
of the greenness of the day, the ochre
found in the environment, the energy found
in the day, and the photosynthesis that
takes place. At times like this I like to
think of the rain. How it washes my sins
and dirt and dust away leaving us pure
and clean. The lion-eye of the sky blue-
vital and clear as day to me. I think of
first loves, and purpose. I think of the child’s
small back, brown neck, dark eyes, his
love for raisins that I don’t have. I think
of genetics, illness in the family, his sunburned face. The
bridges he will have to cross one-day in
the future. I think of the fists that he
makes when he is angry, when he cries out
when he’s frustrated, and I wonder to
myself if I did that when I was his age. Yes,
I think of his moon eyes. His dark-brown
hair cut into a Mohawk-style. I think of
how I can write a book about his energy.
His soul is the Pacific. My brother is (everything to me)
stronger than I am. I’ve learned from my parents
that you can only marry someone who
is your equal. Intellect must match like

a pattern found in the ocean-sea, a
wave, an ohm, time, vibration. The match must
flow like the river flows into the sea. Together
my parents have achieved this imperfect
life. A love that I’ve searched for my entire
life. But I searched for this life in the dark,
falling into the dark finding imbalance
when I closed my eyes. I burned my fingers.
Salt and light in my eyes. Maybe it was
a blessing in disguise that I never found
the love of my life, settled down to raise
a family, had those children. That I write
now instead of having everything else.

Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!


Ovi magazine

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Filed under ovi magazine, poetry

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