Sounds of my dysfunction…pales in the silence of snow drifting.
A prayer for forgiveness grows silent among the echo found in seclusion.
Among the shuffling timbers, I hear more than what is apparent.
Stumbling around my humanness…I grasp the acoustics of letting go.
Should there always be a insult from me to here?
Insulating quiet seems so rare.
The cotton ball is gritty, as if seeking someone’s demise.
Open fields, though endearing, glare at me with only…true lies.
Sign, sign…everywhere a…sign.
Clearly my salvation is where it is meant to be.
And, it is only mine.
in the contrast, so much lurking here and there…the life is despair.
a classic contradiction…aperture and attrition.
within the light…
the subject matter…
moving on can get the better of me.
tucked away in the drawer of great abyss.
where I keep keepsakes…
memories, photographs, contrition…
life remains so open…
it is hidden.