You no longer
Lash out at me
With your viper
Tongue.
The spittle of
Jealous
Resentments
Escape
Late at night
In the early
Spring.
Your wounds
My Inner critic
My wounds
Your inner bully.
Angels lift all of you
As an offering
From
A mushroom cloud of
Fury.
In the quiet of candles
Burning on an altar
Created as transition
Vigil
Love songs now
Croon
Swoon.
Holding soft petals,
With tiny dew droplets,
Like fresh seeds of nourishment.
Wafts of lavender relax
Gripping toes that
Held a lifetime of
Terror.
Touching
Fur on a dog’s floppy ears.
Heaven sighs.
Wide open
In the midst
Of blooming crepe myrtle,
Bright yellow petaled black-eyed
Susan peeks at green peapods.
Honking geese splash
Landing in a lake.
A
Purified
Heart
Beats with
New Life.
Laura, my dear friend and poet this is so beautiful…
Dear Laura,
Your poem touched m heart to say the least. From trauma to tranquility, from distress to harmony, from pain to angelic freedom.
What dramatic experiences created your words, I do not know. But your poem, the clouded life that has now been healed, caressed by an angel’s wings is an inspiration that from bad comes good and from anxiety comes peace of mind.
Laura, you really did ‘hit me for six’. Should you have been a stranger, the words would have just been words, but you are a friend and I extend kindness.
Thank you for sharing this with me, my good friend.
Simon
From across The Pond