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 Pages Of A Woman's Soul


Your spirit is grieved,
open and raw
like the gaping maw
of a deep pit;
heart and soul
in the inky blackness
of deprivation.

Lift up your hands
to the heavens,
close your eyes and feel
the dawning of life within;
let your spirit rise
into violet waves
among the shooting stars.

Come, take my hand -
grasp it tightly and
climb up into my arms,
up into the light;
rest your weary brow
in the golden breath
of a new morning.

Our souls will soar
open and free
in sweet release as one,
wounds of the past now healed;
in the bliss of
rediscovered innocence,
come love, and play with me.

K.Tate Jacoby
copyright April 11, 2008
(REVISED 9/25/09)

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