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Ripples

I trap the sun in a thousand dots under my skin,
crafting them into maps wrapped around tired shoulders,
so I can guide myself by the braille of my body
when darkness shivers over me and night grows colder.

The wind swift scatters the seeds of my dandelion dreams,
casting my traces across oceans and continents.
My second hand shoes plod through places I will never see,
leaving footprints to sprout second hand monuments.
My roots grow like thick, tangled vines through all my places,
re-drawing my map with a thousand small traces.

The night sky I thought to be un-navigable
is washed bright with the light of innumerable stars
which cast sharp reliefs against my uncertain shadow
and write me into small footnotes in the sky’s memoirs.

I find nourishment in dark streams whose waters have
washed the tarnished faces of kings and tyrants clean,
cleared sacred altars of unholy sacrifices
and witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations.
The water flows its history through my tired veins,
and when the water is gone from me, pieces remain.

I am older than history, younger than time,
formed full from the beginning of the universe
and doomed to remain thus until my final days.
When I drink from the river, will you question my ways?

Lil tidbit about me: My name is Evan Schleicher. I am a researcher by necessity and a poet by choice. I have always had a passion for writing but, over the past few years, life has intervened and I have not written as much as I would like. Getting back into writing has been very easy on this platform, as there are so many interesting and supportive people in this community. Thank you, everyone! If you would like to read more of my poetry, feel free to check out my website at evanschleicher.com and leave a comment or send me a message!

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

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