A Golden Spear

I open my arms and admit the pain

Though the cost of admission is fiery to pay.

There is a spear, golden, pierced through my heart

That seems to stretch from then to eternity,

And to turn a blind eye

To this sharp shaft of light,

To this sharp shard of light,

–breaking inside of me into stinging rainbows like drops of rain that laugh for joy and stab into every painful thing before putting themselves back through the prism and rolling into a straight white-gold beam and streaming away to forever out there–

To turn a blind eye to bright truth and its might,

Is to turn a blind eye to myself.

To turn my eyes to stone and stop my ears against the mourning cries inside

And to claim no such thing as a golden spear runs now deep through my heart, shining and bloodless, the wound seared clean as the truth lodged home,

Is not only to lie, but to strangle, to slay,

To kill and to let something beautiful die before its time.

Let me leave the light on–

This sharp golden rod, stretching from then to who-knows-when

–And look while it lasts, for to look away is to miss a wonder of the world,

To deny the prism bursting inside of me in painful colors of untold joy.

I’ll not deny my story,

Nor stay my hand from life’s bounty,

Nor check my lips from tasting half the joy of love,

Nor shall I starve myself of life’s sweetest pain,

Nor rob myself of the riches of a spear of light, breaking into a thousand rainbow gems inside my heart.

More poetry here.

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