Writing as catharsis

My center, unearthed

Posted in Poetry, Prose by Lachlan R. Dale on February 26, 2013

Ash fieldA dark wind sweeps across the plain.
My center, unearthed,
Lays bare the compass of my soul.
Both desert and oasis; mountain and fields of ash,
We oscillate between these poles
Until your field tears me from
My orientation.
Careening wildly, cast from orbit,
Drifting freely within the ether,
Great plates begin to shift.
Beneath the crust an inner flame is born; promising both
Creation and desolation.

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