Every april I die on a mountain for four days
And at last I am reborn; like nature in the springtime–
Blossoming like flowers and hatching like a cocoon in it's last stage
I too go through my phase of metamorphosis
I sit alone in the imperfect silence as long as my body can
With only a sacred pipe in my hand
Days seem everlasting
With the presence of the radiant sun undeniable
What a bittersweet moment, to be smothered in affection from the sun, but the burning sensation worsening with the hours
My flesh—blistering
Finally the night sky has fallen and I can see the stars glowing in a distance
A feeling of relief now possesses me as my body begins to cool down
I lay
And let the brisk breeze dance around me
Surely the night should be coming to an end soon
Into the dream world I can go
After praying as long as I can
Yet, here I am wide awake
With no concept of time
And my thoughts getting the best of me
Finally I slip into the state of temporary darkness
Only to be awoken by the songs that the nocturnal animals sing–
And the cycle repeats
When it gets difficult I sit up, grab the sacred pipe, and pray
I pray not for an easy fast—
But for the strength to endure this hard one
I cry, but no tears falls
I cry, and my mouth moistens
Soothing my severe cottonmouth
I cry for my vision
- Author: PoeticPsycho ( Offline)
- Published: November 30th, 2017 02:40
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is based on a personal experience. I fasted for four days alone on a mountain top as part of my coming of age ceremony, know as a vision quest. I just wanted to share this poem I wrote about it.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Syd
Comments2
Wow! I really enjoyed this. When I first read the poem I thought it was a metaphor for a crack binge lol. Not that I have ever experienced one of those. Great write - Syd
Thank you syd for always giving me feedback. Hahaha I get what you mean about the crack binge, it can easily be confused with one because of the way I described it.
You're welcome PoeticPsycho. It's a great poem. I don't think I could fast for one day let alone four - Syd
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.