The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Shard Of Past LivesSoul wearied from the bodies worn. Past lives, past flesh, shed through the centuries in a search for belonging. Sitting in caves by fires burning low, beasts painted onto the walls by hands slashed and scarred. Egyptian priestess standing
between the paws of the Sphynx, waiting for riddles to seethe through the sands. Striding through white colonnades as Socrates debates the worlds of sense and thought. Digging the dagger into Caesar’s side, dying alongside sweet Cleopatra. Shield maiden leaping into longships on Viking raids, dashing into Crusades for God and religion. Trapped in the London Tower for a crime against the rightful king, heir to the ruins of a Venetian palazzo. Standing on a ship bound for the Americas with hope for richer days. One of many muses for Byron, courtesan for the French elite. Empress of the Russian winters, pauper in the streets of a city fallen to tyrants. Standing on a train platform waving as husband leaves for war, Jew hiding in the attics of Berlin. Posing for Warhol’s next masterpiece, disco queen without the throne. Skipping through the stream of time, into the skins given by fate. Soul stripped from one life to the next, never the same, never returned. One to the other, drifting through, but missing the lands these new eyes see in photographs and books, where memories flourish in the unforgotten. CommentsComments are closed.
|