
Sometimes my soul descends
Into this barren place
Where there is not a breath of wind
And no one sings
Love songs any more
In this place the waters have stagnated
And there are pools and pools of longing
That have dried
The brambles grow waist high
And you feel the cuts as they embrace you
I do not know what it is in me
That takes me here
I only know that when I descend
I am no longer open to the vast crescendo of nature
And all of my lacerations bleed
But when I read your poetry
I remember what I have forgotten
When the nights became too dark
And the fear and hurting too cold and lonely
Then even though my own words of celebration
Stick in my throat
I open my soul just a little to the mystery
And the magnificence
So thank you dearly
For your gift of poetry
Which reminds me when I have
Forgotten my way
And fallen far too far
Away
From home
Brilliant mate the struggle and state of the unknown is very prevalent inside your words
Fall on the memories of the broken road so many full or life reduced to empty corrugated vessels lifeless caught up inside the turmoil of chaos ” Primal R.e.p,r
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Finding that drive that helps you pick yourself back up, to keep going again, that’s sometimes, really difficult to do, but, sounds like you’re, ready, to move. Good for you!
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❤
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Sometimes, just to stand in those places, feel the thorns…
let our legs feel the full magnificence of their vulnerability, ’til the sunset bleeds with us.
Deeply inspiring.
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How beautiful and raw. Thanks Woodsy.
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