I am still.At this momentI am bathedIn my silenceSkilled in self Fear and doubt.Maybe our keys to Gain accessTo the powerOf these quiet bonesRolled out onThe carpetsOf all colorslead toentrywaysWhere sit Freedom’s keys:Sweet reliefFrom the prison Of thought.Wafts of hearing What’s taught us By the hand lockingThe diocese ofLife. Nobody ownsme like silence.I find at
Tag: death and dying
Did you take enough from meWith the deftness of a surgeon? Were my borders clean and neat Or does my destiny include A shorter life of restless false religion?I once built walls and set my boundaries so neat.Now with a deadly diagnosis It’s difficult to seewhere I start and when I’ll end.Was my decision taken
Soul Spelunking: taking time out to go on excursions of self discovery, reading the signs written on the cave walls, and finding our way underneath the surface level to healing the very deepest of wounds. Let’s face it, no one gets out of this life alive. Or unscathed. Maybe some lucky people had amazing childhoods.