March 17, 2009

Making sense of joy

Up and down the fraying rope
the dreamer gapes at frosts of hope.
Like frozen liquid memory,
he cannot coax his eyes to see.

Pulling blind, he zeros in...
by feel, by thought, by scented wind.
But as the aim is just before,
he cannot grasp it anymore.

Hands let go, he falls apart,
(though happiness is in his heart).
And the icy climb to understanding
leaves him at Confusion Landing.

6 comments:

Soontobemoser said...

Here for you always.....

Jenn said...

So profound

Anonymous said...

We are thinking of you, loving you, wishing you strength and courage.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful & powerful words, xoxo

Anonymous said...

I often find myself believing that truth is an illusion, but when I visit this space that you have created I find that it is overflowing with truth. Thank you for sharing your profound insight. Love you and think of you every day.

Anonymous said...

I have read this poem over and over again. It is so amazing. What pours out of you thru your grief, love of each other, and hope in hurting joy is the pure essence of who you and your dear boy really are.

Did you know that before?
Blessings,
cheryl
PS- Would love to be able to share this with others!