Pouring Out

You break down all my defences

I don’t know how you do that

or is it that I let you?

Emotion gathers like high tide

surging over all barriers

flooding my face with

unstoppable tears

that mingle with the rain

as I pour out a deluge

of the forbidden

and the unknowable,

the secret festering truths

that stop my breath,

drowning, heaving, gasping,

I look to the rushing clouds

and for a moment I see

that high beyond the storm

the sky is blue.

 

(Image from Pixabay)

Tenderly

tenderly

She doesn’t ask for gratitude

she doesn’t ask for recognition

she bears all our sorrow

so tenderly

with no harsh word

of blame or judgement

she wipes away our childish tears

and hushes our weeping

with a gentle touch

she carries each of us

in her heart

knowing our pain

and weakness

reaching a hand

to steady us

when we stumble

loving our vulnerability

while we sleep

she gathers the tears

from our lashes

to wash the hate

from our souls

so that one day

we too may fly.

 

Room

I live behind a locked door

in self imposed exile,

my room is my world

and if I stretch out my arms

I can almost reach

from one bare wall to the other.

Within these familiar boundaries

my books, with their words that stretch

the confines of my phobic solitude,

occupy the small places

behind the chair

and under the table

and on the threadbare rug

in the centre

is just enough space to dance.