He sits at my knee,
crying his broken heart
to pieces.
They laughed at him
or teased him
or said no to
playing his game.
He doesn't understand.
I hold him, as closely
as his bruised boyish
independence allows.
“I can't help you understand
the hate, or the
hurt,
or the thousand of other
things in our world
that make no sense, child.
I can only tell you that
I'm here,
and will be,
forever.”Copyright (c) 2012
My heart hangs heavy tonight.This journey over thorny earth has pricked my soul,sapped my strength. I lost my map, my pack, my way, long ago. So long ago. I lay myself down now unarmed, naked to the wolves and all creatures of the night. I no longer have the will to fight.Copyright (c) 2012
Mirror, mirror
on the wall,
who’s the fairest of them all?
The brave, child,
and the strong.
The truth seekers and speakers.
The fighters and the learners,
the survivors who tell their tale.
Those who stand for what is right
and stay up, child, when the
world beats
their knees
with fists of complacency and greed.
And the growers, my dear, the growers!
The ones who make our minds and
our earth
fertile and ripe and ready for seed.
The dreamers and the doers.
The hopers and the prayers.
The thought-makers
and risk-takers
and those who believe enough to bleed.Copyright (c) 2012
