Loss . . .

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

Long fingers of dark

swept by furious air above and below,

contorting crystal vapors that I see.

They are dry, though,

so I am supplying the rain—

my wet cheeks,

my breaking heart,

my mourned loss.

How can so much pressure mount in one weak heart?

Electricity streams through neurons, filling my head with thunder.

And the tears.

They come and come and come.

Death is not the only kind of loss.

1-16-12

View original post

Advertisements

About apronheadlilly

wife and mother, musician, composer / poet, teacher, and observer of the world, flawed Christ-follower
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

I would love to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s