Eric Syrdal Reviews Conversations With My Higher Self by Rachel Finch

My Review of Rachel Finch’s new book. It was an honor to be asked to do this. She is an amazing writer.

Indie Blu(e) Publishing

To walk outside your own body. To look back and see yourself
as the universe sees you. To see the
entire story of your life laid open before you and to thumb through it page by
page and truly understand. To see
clearly, all the events that have lead up to where you are now and the choices
you made, actions you took, and to gain a snapshot of your soul.

Pain, loss, joy, grief, death, and rebirth. To know that you have done it all the best
you were able and that above all else you survived. And love, the greatest of all emotions, is
within you. You are loved, you have
loved, and you deserve love.

Most of all the deepest love possible.

To love yourself.

What would the scenario described above look like? If anyone is capable of drawing out a sketch
of these events, I believe…

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Through…

I carry the blade over my shoulder
it used to ride upon my hip until it was needed
but now
I carry the blade over my shoulder
the weight of it reminds me
of the burdens I carry
the prickle of its edge against my neck
reminds me
that I am mortal
and cut easily and bleed often
I crush my fingers into the soft leather
of the wrappings around the pummel
I can feel the thrum
of my heartbeat in my palm
I am alive
right now, today
In my other hand
my fingers close around the edges
of a talisman
something cold and hard
a relic of yesterday
constructed and imbued with incantations
to make me strong
to give me courage
but courage is not found within objects
courage is a blue eyed woman with raven locks
who stands at my shoulder
one hand on the small of my back
and whispers to me
with a gentle strength in her tone
and offers me her sword
if mine should fail
ahead of me
looms this dark and terrible wood
some claim
at its heart, lies a place
where death resides
others say all who venture into it
are lost and never seen again
I only know
that it lies within my path
and my journey demands
that I travel
through

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We the broken…

Hundreds of gallons
Of water
Rumble and crush against
My feet
Standing here
I feel the sands
Pulling at my skin
Downwards
Ever downwards
To drown the light
Behind the shadows
Of a ribcage split wide
Upon this shattered shore
She took the white froth abeam!
Rolled against the rocks
As I gulped down the brine
my hands grasping for nothing
And filled with so much nothing, they clung
For dear life
To the flotsam
Of this derelict existence
As crawling upon blooded knees
I made my way to this spot
And with heaving gasps of sanguine pride
I look out upon that raging sea
We the broken
We are parts searching for a wholeness
unremembered

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Eulogy – Eric Syrdal

So honored to be featured on Free Verse Revolution. ❤

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

We laid him down

on a field of flames

in the ruddy glow

of sunset’s blood

Upon his breast

lay his shattered shield

in clenched fingers

was his notched blade

Upon his cheeks

was Woden’s sign

upon his lips

the pale name of death

Within his hair

bramble and holly

broken charcoal

and earth

Upon his skin

the wither-rot stood

sculpting each bone

with time’s harsh tongue

We carried the dragon

to the water’s edge

and cold the fjord

around our feet

Set sail to wind

and gathered voices

rouse the gods

call for safe passage

We drank his name

under the fires of dawn

and wait to see him

at the end of all things


Eric Syrdal is an independent poet/author. He’s an avid gamer and Sci-Fi enthusiast. He enjoys reading science fiction and fantasy literature and spends a great deal of his writing time focusedinthose genres. He is…

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Reflections 6

with reverent awe
the cradle of my blasphemous hands
lowers her foot
into the cool water of the tub
her skin shimmers
beneath the aqueous barrier
lifting the dust from her travels
from her tired flesh
no words are spoken here
as head bowed and eyes closed
I listen to the silk within her sighs
and as the burden of her journey lifts free
of her weary shoulders
these voices I carry within my shattered heart
whisper a prayer of thanks
to the universe
that she is delivered back
into this small grey circle that is my life
once again to be bathed
in her incandescent
affections

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Reflections 5

In this moment
her eyes ceased to be
the placid pools
as I had always known them
This feeling welling up inside her
set them a flame behind them
and as such
they defied the word, hazel
no
they were suddenly alive
like a forest
ancient
primordial
primeval
somewhere deep
within the earth’s memory
a place where no human voice
was ever heard
each orb was
a vast viridescent landscape
streaked with the color of earth and stone
each, was a virgin Eden
that my heart yearned to live within

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Reflections 4

The yard fills
with the color
of melted down rain clouds
what was once verdant and sundappled
now sways, blue and black
in the dusk breeze
the surrounding trees
became buttressed walls
of a twilight cathedral
and the starscaped mural
on the ceiling
is alive with the jeweled ribbon
of the milky way
I never feel the weight
of my heart in my chest
except on evenings like this
when the quiet speaks so loudly
around me

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Reflections 3

As we crested the next hilltop
I do confess
that had the wind not been laced
with the bitter sting of winter
still clinging to its coat tails
my eyes would still have watered
at the sight that awaited them
across the sun-draped valley
the shadows of clouds
moved across the open green fields
like the shadows of giant grazing beasts
the spires of conifers
waved a gentle greeting
and the boughs of thier smaller arboreal bretheren
gestured for us to continue down
into this valley of heaven
and in the farther distance
a river twisted like a mirrored ribbon
the very air around us was alive
with light and beauty
and even my heart
heard the call
of herald trumpets

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Reflections 2

Living amid these concrete colossi
for too long
I have watched the stars
obscured by their yawning silhouettes
never does their fire
reach the depths of my heart
I yearn for my spirit to launch
from this pallid haze
scattering the horison
with the embers of a skyrocket
and the shrapnel of broken shackles
to leave this world behind
shed the pain and regret
and the heavy weight of “might have beens”
to return to the heart of a star
my elements would once again be whole
and never again would I dream
of home

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Reflections 1

I name her Angel
with a captial A
like you do
when you write the name of
God
though there is no reason
she should show the world
such compassion
no reason
she should grace the mornings
with her smile
she has every reason
to slam the door
on this existence
every reason
to turn her back
to the setting sun
and make her home among
the thunder clouds
yet she stands in the light
and offers me her heart
I name her Angel
with a captial A

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