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Emotionally Pruning

Standing

Feet sunken into the souls of my shoes

Dusted in the weeks labor.

Standing

Legs stiff yet movable.

Not conscious of the weight they bare,

Yet relentlessly standing anyway.

Calm

Is my body, yet wicked is my mind

Calm

Are my words, yet wrecked is my heart

Here I stand

Pruning this 'wild rose'

As I'm pruning I recognize

That in order to nurture new growth within myself,

I must prune off the old. The decayed. The crimpled.

The forgotten leaves left unturned and remained unseen to rot away back into the soil.

Only to become new growth in another time.

Figuratively molting

Emotionally pruning

Spiritually lifting

Standing calmly in the eye of the storm

Reckoning with all my life's choices

Swirling about my head.

Melting into layers of unformatted grains of sand

Passing through my dimensional existence

With every wave,

Brings a new breath of fresh air.

In which I embrace deeply..

While I remain..

Here..

Standing

Feet sunken into the souls of my shoes

Dusted in the weeks labor


~N

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Tony Moen
Tony Moen
Sep 05, 2023

STILL and probably FOREVER one of my absolute favorite poems that my soul has ever had the pleasure and pain to greet itself within.

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