Maybe it’s just restlessness
in the perpetual grind of a broken spirit.
Maybe it’s fearfulness
in the gasp of life without meaning.
Maybe it’s loneliness
in want of being home where I can be we.
It’s definitely unstable
with steps not leading to a lone path.
It’s definitely noisy
with doubts out-crying a rhythm in dissonant tunes.
It’s definitely me
in a space holding it all
in a matrix of twisted becoming
in quest for a soul – everliving.
photography courtesy of Pat Cegan
Life lived slow mid thorns of fear, wounded weighted low,
Memories lost of journeys free before this path, this NO.
Gone the days of wonder’s laugh choked out by touching hurt.
Yet undeceived can eyes still see such beauty bright unthroned?
Yes! seize and strain the light until with hope you can release
the tears flow down like rain
and grow the heart beyond this place.
For there the quiet secret pain remains embraced and thus refined,
breathed within a lover’s kiss, a holy space divine.