i stare at all the bricks they form a wall
it feels as if i have been working on it my whole
life. I am scared sometimes that it will never end.
and scared it will come to an end...no not really.
i take the needle that is the present put the thread that is
the future and i mend the tears from the past.
my heart only knew bursting with joy, never have i known this splitting
of the seems. never would i want to again.
i am scared today, a little for the wall cast a familiar shadow
yet i hear others talk about the sun. i start again brick soaked
with the moisture of my hand. which is the wall and which is the pile...
About Me
- onesilentwinter
- i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..
2 comments:
You are talking about something that is very complex but I understand what you are saying because you are a good writer. "Which is the wall and which is the pile"....true confusion, summed up perfectly.
nadia you need to write a book.
the hurt and the need to move beyond it is raw and real in your words.
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