Thursday, March 05, 2009

Yearning (prose)

A crushed heart longs to grasp
The beauty that is ever-elusive
just beyond reach

A walk by the peaceful waterway
A resting of the hands upon billowy cotton fabric late at night
And I remember

the place of stillness
the place of peace
where the soul longs to rest

A child cries in the cradle
to return to the comfort of mother's breast
A war victim longs
to return to a home that no longer exists
to a family lost in the madness
Both weep raindrops of discontent
grieving the present and hungering for more

Words do little justice to this theme
that presses in like a heavy cloud
A misty fog obscures our vision
But sunset lingers on the horizon

The calm after the storm
A reminder
that while some things are irreplacable,
peace awaits the yearning wanderer

As flowers that bloom afresh each spring
pushing up out of the once frosted soil
We ache to be made new, to be made whole
And the slight perfume of something more
an aroma of restoration draws us home

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

I don't remember you telling me you wrote poetry *wink* Then again, we had an all too short introductory conversation. But at least we had that!