Clinging to my bosom
lies a melancholy of discontent,
within this cavern body,
a malaise of disconnection.
Rumbling, grumbling, stirring, yearning.
There, upon scant introspection, a reticence interrupts,
and causes pause of closer contemplation.
Overtakes it, a gripping fear
that ripped apart,
my maternal existence as I’ve known.
Yet, too, a certainty dawns
within this dark and foggy cave,
that prolonged avoidance and desperate ignorance
can only guarantee my breaking.
So it is, I seek
the source of this undoing,
this crumbling of my ground.
And there I find,
instead of death,
of rising fertile soil.
Firm and sure, this new terrain,
renewed life within my bosom springs,
a connection never felt before.
My heart, the door,
a void, no more.
Varan, Valerie. “The Melancholy of Discontent.” ValerieVaran.com. DependentMedia.com. 2014.