I have no magic words to heal your heart; I’ve caused deep wounds–black and blue and raw. The memories, like relentless scavengers, they gnaw To tear the fragile sinew of our love apart.
Your thoughts, I know, are like serrated blades, With stinging blows almost too much to bear. And a brassy heaven to echo back your feeble prayer And make you wonder why you even prayed.
I cannot know the trepidation you must feel Alone and empty, filled with doubt and strained. To wonder: are “all things new” or simply feigned. These last few months, an illusion or are they real.
Yet, unbeknownst–behind the scenes–stealthily they fly; The answer to our forgotten prayers is sent. From Heaven’s throne where once, with doubt, we went, With tears, questioning if our petitions reached so high.
With hope, though love will not your scars erase, We with doubting, trembling faith proceed, And from the tempter’s vile grasp are freed, With love anew we run the race.
Days passed, Months passed, Years of waiting- For someone might Turn up a day. Like a pomegranate In the mountains high I had been waiting, Smiling with mouths open And my pearls- dropped one by one, One after another, Till
The hand comes out of the rubble to throw the musky odor of a cross-legged monk under the ginkgo tree. An apparition comes outside the body of a fan-shaped snake; ignites the wolf. We were hungry, we were thirsty. Untwining
Like a rumbling thunder let loose upon a recalcitrant world by the fury of nature, the sound of heavy gun shots could be heard ominously in the distance from this remote settlement where the inhabitants lurks away in the gloomy
Lives have been lived by millions of people that have been forgotten or worse never known. People that walked our world, looked at the same sun, the same moon that we see today. Lived lives, had families, lost loved ones,