often, my spirit pours out unbridled / by Ellen Sorensen

often, my spirit pours out unbridled

flooding the streets where I live

but people are used to the water

unfazed by their wet feet and soaked socks

 

i've caught myself building dams

to withhold the magic within these walls

the wildness of this creature overwhelms 

and even frightens the unprepared 

 

a quiet whistle echoes into an orchestra 

one rose is an entire embrace of a bouquet

brushing skin has brought you to my bedroom

and oh, the beauty I have seen in this world

 

there is a tugging of sadness, however 

to know that not all can understand 

nor feel with the fervor I have been bestowed

a sadness of unrequited connectedness 

 

this gift is not without pain 

my third eye sees all and feels all

which can be too much to bare 

as the pain of this life is often acute

 

so quietly I bound the best parts of me

withholding with love, sharing with care 

these waters are rising 

and I am the mermaid