Journey to Your Deepest Self

On the Side of the Road

She’s no one I’ve been In this lifetime. Standing in a burnt, barren landscape The wind ceaselessly blowing The sky ceaselessly grey, She is a little child Left for being a burden. And I don’t know Who I’ll be When I walk in the door. I can’t see a path to you- To us. So I’m feeling my way Backwards Through the darkened rooms Of our house; A house haunted By the echoes Of expectation, desire and Something Else- And the fading after-image Of our children’s belief in Us. How their hearts break open Like eggs So fragile, so defenseless When we separate. I hold her hand In mine now And together we make a place Where something green Can grow. And it’s terribly, terribly Far from...
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