When you wake from broken sleep
unrested, unresolved,
unpicking lies, the weft and warp
of love gone awry.
When realisation dawns
bright as day, that betrayal
cascades through human hope
corroding your soul’s protective layer.
Then it’s time for Truth
withdrawing projections that undermine reality
holding the curtain back, seeing things
as they are, not as we want them to be.
Hold fast to the Godde
She who appears in the moon’s soft light
unfolding Truth’s healing cloak, to wrap you
in more than illusory fragments.
Breathe in Her restorative power
leave that which drags you down
turn to face the dawn’s promise
Her imprint on your broken heart.
For Kate, who was courageous enough to try and love again.
May she eventually give it another go.
Image: Source unknown
Beautifully crafted spiritual poetry
True to my experience
Haunted by ghosts of Christmas Past
It was a conscious decision
To embrace the joys of the present
Releasing the past, which had seemed
Wonderful till it was no longer
Thanks, dear friend
Nice to see you still
Enchant words with your magic
No truer word spoken! The tricky bit is letting the ghosts tootle off some place else, dont you think? They have an alarming tendency to keep coming back like bad smells. Perhaps I need to invite some in for a cuppa and see what they need…
Thanks for your encouragement. As we know, in the beginning was the Word and this year I hope to keep her close by. Let’s hope enchantment comes from that and not the ghostly presences…