Courtyard of red, and vines and roses
and old stone bricks
And cathedral bells
And my lonely footfalls on the hill.
On that beautiful cold country.
I feel hollowness around me, hear
My own sincere verbs taking flight
to fan the silence
That lack of understanding that robs my colour
And leaves me strange and dangerous. Other.
I am heading west
Into the sunset
To find my footing,
To watch those drops of moonlight
Fall into the ocean.
To hear my footfalls
Loved and cherished
And appreciated for curious habits
And quiet introspection.
I do not fear distance. Still.
I do not fear the unknown.
And now there are two
Sets of footprints.
I have mended. Healed myself.
And now I can fly.
Created: Feb 02, 2010Document Media