Her purposed banter eases a fabric
Of comfort across the holes in her mirth
She laughs with her mouth wishing its magic
Would heal that inner, untouchable hurt
She loves and is loved; the ache in her being
A bittersweet duel of pleasure and pain
She writes; but words keenly expand the knowing
That something is missing that she cannot explain
She lives in awareness of moment surrender
In passionate struggles of ‘dust unto dust’
She prays and she plays and she works as the splendor
Of love, loss and longing fill heart-voids with trust
© Janet Martin
I
believe in the immortality of the soul because I have within me immortal
longings. Helen Keller
Oh wow. This one goes deep. This is not our home, eh? It helps me to repeat that to myself sometimes...so good to be reminded that one day there will be no void!
ReplyDeleteThank-you Jen, for understanding:)
ReplyDelete