Healer of Me

I see the gray, knotty trunk fade gently into the black of wetness,
exploding ceremoniously into illuminating gold and autumn orange.
Let me climb into the majestic rapture of your healing ways.
Hold me, hide me,
create in me your unshakeable foundation,
with roots so far reaching I will find no purpose in the outside world.
With every leaf that falls,
let those pieces of my mind fall gently away,
leaving me dormant but alive, healing me of all my ills.
And alas when spring comes,
let every bud of yours reflect in me the entire woman I am,
not who I was or wish to be, but the one who has been gone for so long.
Let me rejoice in the beauty of a long lost love returned,
and know that all I am is me.

Bona Bourlier

 Dad
 
 
Hope you like this.
 
 
 
From:
Bona
lethp@md.freei.net
 
 
Poem Copyright ©2000 Bona Bourlier
   
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