6th April
Strangled
Ivy and brambles grow tight into the structure,
Roots going deep into mud walls
Concealing the entrance.
With hacksaw and pain in equal measure,
I attack the wildness with vigour,
Thorns tearing at my flesh.
Driven by an impulse I can't ignore, success
Depends on this challenge and though blood
Drips all around,
I carry on.
I fight my way through the years of misery
And with every cut, with every root discarded,
I get nearer to the self I lost.
Then a gap, a small hole and I peer inside,
Squint to see what is there in the dark
And carry on, renewed.
I will find my way in, the way to the present moment
And with God, find peace.
Welcome to my blog. Grams is the name my first grandson gave me and it's stuck. My great loves: My husband, our nine children, twenty five grandchildren, four great grandchildren, my Faith, writing- prose and poetry - and travelling , especially in our camper. My posts are eclectic and I appreciate getting comments. So, please feel free to comment or offer advice on what you would like to to see more of.
Showing posts with label thorns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thorns. Show all posts
Thursday, April 6, 2017
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