Labyrinth Within

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A thread

for the first time

in a long

time. An entrance

Into the verdant interior laid out

as a labyrinth. A thread is

for following fist over fist while

footprints form in the soil.

The verdure closes behind

the imprint of each. Apprehensive

breaths catch in the throat of she

for whom

ignoring the thread

was never an option.

 

 

Beauty Riot

Though I am not doing what I would have chosen to do

Let my song be sung to You

Though I do not dance to the rhythm of the places I wish to be

Let my song be sung to You

Though my eyes do not see what I wish to behold and my spirit is not captured by the everyday

Let my song be sung to You

Let my lifeblood tattoo the melody: You. You. You.

May the pulsating crescendo of my respiration croon the harmony of redemption

My banner, my mantra, my rally point; truth in riot.

Photo by Carly Fehlberg (raephotoblog.blogspot.com)