Out Of The Wood

They will sing you their dark serenade, false lullabies will rock you to sleep.  ~ Don Conoscenti.

I’ve found a precious seam
the finest of the region
dowsing here near a bench
for meditative space
and quiet all around
I’m sinking deep

a monastic life
not so different from the one
two thousand miles away
where winter pulled me into
her pitiless embrace
and held me down

but here
now, gleaming
right resonance
–the whispers I’ve heard
by ancient trees
standing alone in the city—

a symphony swells
ringing through my negative
spaces and I’m touched.

Despair rocked me with no
idea of how to change
this shattered world
so I hold her hand
where heavy hearts weep
imprisoned by callous lies.

Life wants to live
keeps sending shoots
out of the darkness
life keeps reaching
for the light
and so do I.

Inspired by: Region, Finest, Bench and Seam.

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Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

2 thoughts on “Out Of The Wood”

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