Poetry For Everyday People

The Word Comes

I light the candles
shadows dance
put on pajama
bottoms
long sleeve old
Blues shirt
worn cotton
comforting my heart
I sit
I pour
red wine splashing
in a crystal ball
my mind
weaving in and out,
pleasing me,
disappointing me
and the music
comes in,
I am creating
music in my head
without an interrupting
thought
music
music
sips of forgiveness
sips of isolation
a glass of moon
a glass of sun

and as
birth.


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The Word Comes

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