Spiral

A poem of loss and hope

Joni Sensel
Nov 6 · 1 min read
A large tower clock from the inside
A large tower clock from the inside
Photo by the author

An icy, sour wish for death
Comes seeping in between my bones,
The grey of concrete, fog, and ash.
Exhale. Rest. Stillness works.
Je t’aime. That’s all, and that’s enough.
Hold tight.
The endings never end
But circle and constrict, like arms
(A preview of the burial shroud),
Til time itself escapes the clock,
Springing loose in shining coils:
A bouncing spiral of delight
Unwound around
Eternity.

Joni Sensel

Written by

Exploring intuition, imagination, creativity, and other paths to the Divine. I write for Fortune 100 companies and people like you. Writer, adventurer, monk.

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