Drift

Drift

Everyone has their window

Their magic cupboard door

Where wonder dwells

Where we step into eternity

Forget the tug of present

The demands of everyday

Lay down your shields and arms

And rest your weary head

Drift softly on a water leaf

Through tunnels dripped with dew

Down to the ancient waters

Where you will find

Forever

Comfort

COMFORT

I arrived home

After a week in hospital

After my second cancer surgery

Scarred as though I'd flown through a windscreen

She arrived soon after

Just a little scrap

Small enough to fit in my hands

Like a soft, stuffed toy

I was in the recliner

With a blanket over me

My husband placed her with me

And she burrowed in

Snuggling close and closer

My heart expanded

And we both slept

She got me out of doors

Out in the green air

I laughed everyday

at her explorations and antics

And exercised because

She needed her walks

And we slept often that spring

With her curled against my neck

She was a gift from my husband

But I think God had his hand

For there is no greater comfort

Than a little dog.

Old Wounds

All those old wounds

Stitched, bandaged and bound

Packed in an old trunk

That my subconscious found

Thrown overboard in a wild sea

Why are they floating back to me?

I awake from a restless night

Weeping and shivering with fright

I feel the waves of danger

Your fists raised in anger

And I run for my life.

Blood of your blood

Bone of your bone

Born into your home

You were supposed to protect me

Instead you hurt and reject me

Yet, for a while, as a child

You were my hero

I would try on your shoes

Imitating your moves

Learning too late

That love can transform into hate

A child abused, abandoned, or betrayed

Is forever afraid