Cleansing.
Raindrops
‘neath slivers of
half moon’s glow
vanquish nights
within timbers
where fears
bend low.
•
Salvation.
Moistened rivulets upon flushed cheeks
sculpt betrayal of a shrouded scar.
A heart immured, a spirit stilled,
ladened fetters from afar.
Free her from these vines that bind,
renew her with each embrace.
Let the wounds that scathed of yesterday
become kindling for a love engraced.
•
A Bitter Thanksgiving.
Many of you may recall having read these lines from past Thanksgivings; it is a retelling of a visit I had with one of my patients during this time of year—a woman whose life and struggles were unlike mine in many ways, but who nevertheless taught me many things about courage and integrity.
I hope you enjoy these words, and have a blessed Thanksgiving week.
• • •
Allow me to spin upon the spindle
a tale of an encounter true.
A patient once, a homeless mum,
her words now shared with you:
The hour of autumn arrives anew
when mirth and feasts abound.
But let me confess my days to you,
true gifts which have been found…
The steady cadence of my heart,
voice to praise when souls fall dark,
vision to behold each fresh day’s start-
For this, I am thankful.
The assured exhale of every breath,
joys gone by, its memories kept,
cloth to shield from winter’s death-
For this, I am thankful
Days when I can veil my cries,
days I look you in the eyes,
to know on night lies brighter skies-
For this, I am thankful.
So for this…I am thankful.
•
Water.
An ebbing of tides
flowing to insatiable vastness,
the ever taunting malcontent
of a wearisome soul.
Lulled by nature’s melodies
lost by its faint eternal glow,
a sacredness of peace
I glean.
