My heart longs to fill again, love and break through.
Yet silence remains in this voiceless taboo.
Warrior worn, I alone mold this hearts door,
That nothing may breathe from the past anymore.
If it did all the years that captured my soul’s roar,
Would torture and blind as it did in life’s wars.
I cared that the children of the earth split to heal,
And I lost my own sons in unseen plight’s ordeal.
I would die for my Own and bid Mercy’s restart.
My Hands reach out; I grasp at photos in my heart.
My calls are now whispers, no words or notes due.
After so many years, only Love’s Grace would bring you.
©2012 Linda Willows
(photo credit: Marco Tomei)