Throwback Thursday. I haven’t shared a throwback before, at least I don’t remember one. This seemed appropriate considering my TO SOAR poem today.
There are moments of peace that spread through space and time as if the finger of destiny were in control.
Sounds swirl around in a chaotic symphony to create a web of melody to nest and harbor ones soul.
For some this eye of the storm may be a calm achieved in a place of choosing and alone.
Me, I, can only attain this much desired anomaly in time and space by looking outside me to a crone.
Alone in a dark room with the sounds echoing from one wall to another and another and yet another,
I find that my only hope for survival is to rely on someone so dear whom I fear I might smother.
My irrational mind asks questions of ruin and brings images of disaster and torment.
There is never a moment, even when in happiness, I do not realize I am a fragment.
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