Tenderly flowing from her most succulent of lips,
The Keeper of Storms whispers,
“is life measured by the number of breaths you take?
Or the moments of your life.......
that absolutely take your breath away”
Dousing flames of passion,
Feeding fires of retaliation,
Next to each name a list of grudges that bare your pain
with proud disdain.
Kindling for bitterness, self righteous, manic depressives.
Frustration, envy, alcohol, snort choices drowning “the voices”
Sludge of grudge, binding, pulsing enters your veins.
Hate returns Hate
Injustice returns Injustice
Blinding all vision.
Causing lips to perse, curse, or worse drown in anguish n' silence.
Bitterly replacing this our most precious of gifts..... our own fragile humanity
Holding a grudge? A lazy, futile escape at best.
Tasting my tears,
She draws me near,
Sighs in my ear….
“the depth of your past is an indication
of the height of your future,”
recognize this, give power to your future,
give power to your mistakes.
A vibrant energy seeks to renew, restore,
rebuild.
Teach you, sculpt you focused directives, even a goal.
How can you listen if grudge speaks through your Voice?
Grinds you, seeing ony disgrace not courage or strength?
I stutter, restlessly stammer…
“how?..... dear goddess do I…..”
Interrupted by wild whipping winds tossing me mercilessly,
She spoke,
“forgive,
let it alone,
leave it behind,
let it go,
lay it aside.
Give no more power or energy to “it.”
“is life measured by the number of breaths you take
Or the moments of your life that absolutely.... take your breath away”
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
amazing write. you definately have an identifiable style that is all your own. i like that.
