Memory of hurts and dirty shirts, callous words, and malice
Unsheathed, all shoved in your haversack, carried on hard-worn
Back, and heart torn; you want to be reborn; ah! you have
To empty the many lies and putrid soul flies before your
Spirit dies… Unload before you explode in volcanic eruption
From heart disruption; tis your choice to bury deeper in sack
And carry what racks your mind and tracks your every step,
Entangles you in web, and strangles your life, mangles like
Knife in the hand of a mauler, sleazy bar-brawler, and taller
Than Olympian god and shod with armor impenetrable, terrible;
But with turn of the pack ~ upside down, inside out ~ all flows
Out and deals fatal blow to Goliath, so you are free to be
What you are meant to be and clear-see without cloy sheer joy,
And hear all nature sing in rhapsody of Spring that brings
Wonder in pantheon thunder, as Mother smiles on sister, brother,
And all kindred great and small, splendid vivacity in capacity
So expansive you can scarcely intake the make of the stupendous
Mystery of it all, upsurging from before history of time began;
Ah! But you have to unpack your haversack… Unpack! Unpack!
.![cloathed-with-raggs[1]](https://noblethemes.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/cloathed-with-raggs1.jpg?w=404&h=705)
Note: First published in late August 2015
noblethemes 
That is one heavy haversack! I suppose mine is quite a load, as well. I enjoyed how tangible the poem starts out with dirty shirts and then gets wonderfully abstract from there. Love the melodic rhyming.