Western New York…the cold zone
A poet. a child of the universe. blessed and gathering thoughts…check out Kim’s beautiful site.
We set aside these,
These thoughts of raging storms,
Storms of thought that blow in-
In to the soul causing destruction of self.
Selflessly we move forward to moments,
Moments like lighthouses shining,
Shining beacons we seek shelter from,
From storms that crash into our soul.
Souls speak the words like parting clouds,
Clouds that moments before that were choking-
Chocking the lifeblood out of our dreams,
Dreams that sat on the verge of truth,
Truth is all that’s left to set us free.
Free in peace from sandstorm pain,
Pain that pricked like a thousand needles,
Needles on sensitive skin and we hid-
Hid beneath the stairs that wound into the sky,
Sky that would be our salvation-
Salvation in its simplest form,
Form of clarity and calm.
Trying something a bit new, each sentence ends with a word and the next sentence begins with the same word….sometimes you…
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