Everything will be all right….

Oct. 13, 14

So here it is,
this sheaf of words.
Rolled up and smoked,
inhaled and gone.
Exhaled, stale air
and rich full heart.
At least this is a
simple start.

Or here we go
like we are known
and like children
we have grown
together and apart
like rice.
Each grain a simple
white device.

A word, a grain, a darkling
start, a mystery to this
aching heart that has been
shredded, torn apart
and fused again from
end to end.

Oh, darling darkness,
we will bare this
emptiness of bound despair,
and drinking, lift it up to light
and everything will be all right.

Vicki Woodyard

Comments welcomed....