Ode To A Beautiful Writer

My thoughts rise with the night

and you are the secret glow within

from where the light of these words flow

your sensibilities, your solitariness

the scars in your heart,

raw, ruthless, lingering

like the breath of a storm

that eases no tide against

the expanse of slumber, sorrow, or hope.

 

There are times I can’t grasp the strength of your prose

but then, no sky is bereft of its beautiful lightning

even the stars have become more captivating

when shining above the metaphor of your passions.

 

Still, I would want nothing

more than to see you heal,

lose the impulse that leads to your fall in spirit

as your sentiments and stories grow incandescent

when you walk between the streets of love and pain.

                 *********

– geena, january 2016

cropped-roseglass.jpg

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