Looking into the deep river
of my becoming,
I see a child
in a castle
on a hill.
Given a jacket of cement,
Locked into an iron-sided bed,
Imagination was
Her only freedom.
Anticipation is not always a promise.
Disappointment is seldom a disaster.
Loneliness is not isolation.
Homesickness can lead to
finding a new home.
Terror, torture and bad times
All swim side by side in the deep river
of my becoming,
As do the shock of joy,
The torment of love and
The suddenness of sunshine.
There was no beginning and there will be no end.
I just am and then I am not.
1 comment:
Amen. Brilliant
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