Dissolving margins take me deeper into the desolation of the soul,
with each moment long, I find my life weariness increasing the hole
in my thinking.
Tears thicken in my eyes where the sight is strained by searching,
my heart is like a rock as if the spirit’s flown leaving me lurching
on its journey.
I wait in silence, for your response and hear only wait, hold, wait,
I can’t I think wishing the tears to fall, the shame and hurt to abate
so I’m staying.
I am like a tree bowed in the wind with no hope of rain or sun,
my leaves fallen, my branches, like sprouting bones web spun
for my company.
The wind blows where it will, and tosses me as I hold so tight
to the ground where I was formed and there my roots will fight
to stay my hope.
There was another, who was torn, his battered arms stretched,
strangled on a tree, who spoke my name and in my wretched
state he loved me.
As nails bit deep into his healing hands and feet, he screams
and I think of his desolation, his dear tears flowing in streams
through my grief.
His tender eyes searched my unseeing eyes, turned in on myself,
he quietly listened to my muddled mind, my closed ears listening
only to my grief.
Rising, I stumble through the day and search for fruitless solace.
Like a wounded bird seeking healing for a broken wing in a place
Silence slips into a hush, my resistance gone his heart and mine press
and beat together and my grief flows into his, dissolving brittleness
while I weep.
Too soo, a shrill call from the others entangled in the grief ridden pain,
and still burdened I move towards them feeling that he’s gone again
but left his dear