volcano
The days have been full and my mind and heat have been quiet, so Went back through words I have written before and found this poem in a Long Ago File that spoke to me tonight. I hope it finds you as well.
volcano
do you remember the grade when we built volcanoes hollow towers of papier-mâché and the incendiary mix of vinegar and baking powder that spewed over the sides
it was about the same time our sorrow began to stack up the strata of struggle and shame solidifying into a debilitating monument where our fault lines intersect
we watched movies of molten lava bursting forth from the center of the earth with unstoppable fiery force searing the landscape and then turning to stone
what a surprise to find that what forces up from the core of our beings through the fault lines of failure the center of our sorrow is the lava of laughter
a mighty river of love that knows shame by name and runs as hot as hope down the stacks of sorrow the geology of grace the pumice of promise
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Peace,
Milton
