There’s a place we find inside ourselves, a space that’s rarely found.
In a quiet time we hear a voice that brings us to the ground
Its not fear we feel nor happiness just something so profound
Listen now; hear it loud it’s the voice without a sound
It can make you weak; bring your soul to seek the meaning of it all
Then the pain inside; can’t be denied and tears begin to fall
Frozen there; seems so unfair that you feel so all alone
Let it go; its time you know; it’s the voice that calls you home
It’s a gift you know; that time alone; a place where life unfolds
It embraces you; its vital truth; it’s a message for your soul
Make it yours; it’s the only cure your heart will ever know
Time to live again; love again; it begins with letting go
There’s a place we find inside ourselves, a space that’s rarely found.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
Love Tinka
Josie
Sandie Angel :o)