written awhile back...I may not be on much, but my thanks to all of you who come by....
m.
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words are struggling out through this weary will to say no to ask where please? ( god? ) are you there please? for my words I'll give up if you will hear please? I am trying to find my heart, you see or is it my soul?
my mind aching, again, again... tattered and feeling the past the past.
why did it hurt to repeat, to repeat that word ( that one word ) as it came into my mind-- full of dust and stuck in my throat, choking my whole... and why, still does it keen?
We often beat ourselves with our past. Our past also pursues us with memories we'd rather forget. Sometimes it just prowls waiting for the right moment to pounce. Bites deep. Bastard! Do we stand still and wait for God to find us? He knocks on the door of our soul, doesn't He? Do we hear? So much in this poem to fill my mind with a pool of thoughts to swim around in and indulge. The past? I look too forward to the past at times. I share your anxiety.
From the heart this poured with the feelings that only a widow or widower can feel when the love is snatched out of their grasp by the cruelty of life.
Fee
Waves of pain, of bewilderment, a reaching to the highest for clarification, and comfort....this is like standing on the shoreline and waiting for the waves to halt......
A constant rush of sorrow.......but perhaps of cleansing too?? This has me thinking......
strong write.........so authentic
pax A
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Wonderful..
Ch'erie
How did the move go? All settled I hope, or at least getting there?
Love,
Elizabeth
Regis
Fee
This touched me deeply and settled as a choke in my throat. The despair amd complete sinking of the spirit is all inside your pen.I want to cry.
Love,
Susan
A constant rush of sorrow.......but perhaps of cleansing too?? This has me thinking......
strong write.........so authentic
pax A