Tag: spiritualhealing

bleak warden

there is nothing left inside my chest
but a bitter emptiness that lines
the hours of my love with
caged bars to keep me safe-
and while I long, like a song bird,
to be free of my prison
i know that this self-imposed
pain in which my heart resides
is but a punishment of the self
for things that cannot be told
but rather lay hidden…
and I am lost to the ravages
of my own mind
a darkening that lingers within
my heart like a bleak warden


the sliver of sunshine that i can see
from the window pane of my heart
keeps me striving to move forward
in hopes that maybe someday
I will see just a little more…
that maybe someday i will taste
the spring air that flows
through the open fields
just beyond the threshold of my door

echoes of passion

though you’re no longer here
i wonder if you still feel me…
my pulsating, vibrating, echoing
energy; adrift in the ether-
whispering silent longing
to the heavens as the skies
open up into a soft rainfall
of pleasure and memory

this maze

So much lies between
me and love
So many secrets that I keep
from myself
Barriers of self betrayal
line the rooms of my house
dividing any chance for sleep
for peace, for love to find me…
And though I cry out lost in
this maze of my own undoing
I am not strong enough to knock
it down


I am sadness
bottled in an attractive wrapping,
manufactured by the highest pain,
handled with the least care…
and yet still you find me
filling and healing, and loving-
you! the salve of my misgivings,
sorrow and suffering…
you! who pick up my broken pieces
even after my shards make you bleed…
somehow you still find a reason
to protect and ingest all of me


looking through the shattered lens
of a broken and fallen heart
i see prisms of color
where the light enters in
and i wonder at the joy rainbows engender…
even when sadness seems to have no end

lightening bugs

There are lights on the porch
across the street-
I can see them glowing outside my window,
reminding me of lightening bugs
I used to try to catch
as they flashed through
childhood summer evenings

Oh the cruelty of youth!
bottling up such wondrous bugs
so that they might lighten up
the darkened places within my soul-
Alas, nothing of that light remains
as I stare nostalgically
down and across the road
at electric lights that softly glow