Wednesday, September 30, 2009

a poem

Healing. I try to step around
All my broken places
Like cracks in the ground
Speeding up my paces

Stop, come forward, wait
Is healing possible?
After all these games too late?
Will I play the fool?

Trust, stretch out my withered hand
Hope for hidden wholeness. Stand
Within, emerging like a seed
Unbounded, undivided, freed

But wait, tomorrow's self
Awakes to find this withered hand
Quickly slid into my pocket
Wholeness, my castle melts like sand

Come forward. Stretch out your hand.

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