Some hurts are not
meant to throb and bleed
in the merciless glare
of the sun.
Instead,
they are harvested –
the choicest plucked from the vine –
for a bit of cathartic crushing.
Wrung of its juice
then stored in barrels
hidden in caves,
left to process, ferment and age,
like a secret
tucked in the deep where
only the winged or the wise can reach.
Many moons pass and even
the reddest, bitterest
blood fades.
What remains,
bottled or spilled,
is intoxicating remembrance.
+++++++++++
for One Shot Wednesday
image by Zest-pk
{ 23 comments… read them below or add one }
Gorgeous…this made me drift into remembrance. I love it, Belinda.
You are writing about my life right now–and how I feel about it–and put it so elegantly–
Damn! This one’s awesome! I love the idea of past hurts waiting, transforming, becoming something of value.
Belinda,
MARVELOUS… the comparison for creating and storing wine to past hurts. I loved it and liked how you made the hurt change, like wine does, into something we can enjoy with the fondness that comes with age.
Excellently written, my friend.
my wine usually bitters when i store it too long but i do tend to find my feelings mellow into better rememberances…
A beautiful description of the aging process, considering both “spoils” and the nature of a fine pleasure. Also made me want to go wine tasting. A wonderfully written poem, Belinda
Gorgeous! love this “left to process, ferment and age,
like a secret
tucked in the deep where
only the winged or the wise can reach.” so exquisite!
What lovely imagery – the idea of a hurt being transformed into something valuable and worthwhile.
This was beautiful, Belinda.
Yes, it is an intoxicating rememberance at its finest…I love the California Vineyards….bkm
Wow, beautiful writing. What a metaphor for life!
And some hurts do both, yet they all distill down into what we remember of ourselves, what matters, with time. Insightful piece.
really love where you took this…the metaphor is so apt, and I can certainly understand the sentiment.. a glass raised to your lovely write , cheers ~
Beautiful comparison…
Oh yes the past can be drank many times but age enables a better palette
..like a secret
tucked in the deep where
only the winged or the wise can reach… LOVED this…
Intoxicating remembrance – I love these 2 words together! You make this process sound magically beautiful.
O, Wise, wonderful winged one of words one can get right into and tromp with one’s feet, nice squishy little grapes of truth between the toes…
May the intoxicating memories
and memories of intoxication
and the very sweetest of them,
fill your cup of healing forever.
xoxo
I really like this – and that “cathartic crushing” is a great line.
Nice one. Bottled or spilled, it is a product of the fermenting process that leads to intoxication and its remembrance.
Bless!
This is some serious skill. One of the better poems I’ve read in a while. The voice was clear and crisp, like a dry wine and a sharp cheese. Your opening is classic. If you are published somewhere I would enjoy the read. You know poem. Inspiring.
Love the metaphor and the language you use. Nice one Belinda!
Wow Belinda. That is powerful! Makes me think that we hide our WOEs and NO’s deep down – until one day they rouse themselves from our subconscious — and we, drunk on pity sabotage our best efforts for living our dreams.
I really love the imagery here.
This is beautiful!