Thursday, 28 January 2016
ROOM OF AN ANCIENT WOUND
While I am thinking
Of the moon
Waxing lyrical
In its striving
To emerge
Through cloud
Again
The boy inside a man
Desperately needs
To break
Out of the dark
Room of an ancient
Wound
He questions
The recall of his
Mind
Emotional
Memory
Is
Without doubt
Convulsing
In its honesty
Bursting
Into tears
When the movie tells
A story like his own
Assaulting
Every involuntary
Fibre of him
Compulsing
I pray the prayer
He cannot say
Express a hope
He cannot feel
Beg God
Put forth
Your arm in strength
On his behalf
How long
The wounded
Wait
The mounting years
Too many
I am helpless
Beneath the sundered
Sky
Jet blackness
Set against
A kind radiance
Silver lining
Of the night
Behold she comes
Bright brilliance
Low, lopsided, lovely
The moon as mother
Appears
Beacon of a goodness
That might prevail
And not fail again
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