From the Ahlberg Slopes
written by: J.Ahlberg
@anothermadidea
This is our family; these are our tribe
This is the soil that rooted our lives
The years are between us –
Each, all, and none
Every rise, every fall
Of the turning
Sun.
This is our first home; these are our kind
This is the cradle our hands grasp tight
The tears cannot touch us –
We’re, always, as one
The beating, the drumming
Of our blood
Overrun.
This is our bondage; these are our ties
This is the summit united by sight
There’s nothing between us –
We’re, never, alone
From the top, of the berg
All the slopes
Are as one.
NOVEMBER 2018 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Jo is an academic researcher in the philosophy of Imagination. She has several jobs which include: university lecturer in philosophy, GCSE English teacher and a "jobbing" writer - writing commissions from multimillion pound international bids to annoying cliched flyers. In her spare time, she is walked by the dog, organised by the kids and validated by her husband.
Latest posts by J.Ahlberg (see all)
- Yours Sincerely - December 21, 2018
- Interview Q&A With J.Ahlberg - December 11, 2018
- Gold - November 26, 2018
