i could climb through the window of  my soul

the fear of losing power already lost

mouth dried by the nervousness of exposure

i want to feel the day without fear

as if God were coursing through my blood

a heat on a muggy day

to sweat the poisons clinging to my cells

trudging through the graveyard of my emotions

searching for the tombstone chiseled "Sunshine"

i'm lost in a grove of overgrown flow'rs

neglected like a child whose parents ran away

why is there an officer in this swamp of bones?

is there treasure hid worth guarding the graves?

will he lead me to the shadows of my longing

through the fetid pools devoid of light?

somewhere in this miasma of concerns

ghosts lurk, flitting through the myths upheld

lost since the first internment, they seek companions

to release them from their sequestering cage

so i enter their silent movie, the script of which replays my life

and with a rose clenched tight between my teeth

dance as bloodlets weep from beneath my lips

now as mourner, i pass those whose gold-bands rust

carcases, dressed in earth, boxed in decay

giants no more, who can harm my battered flesh

my soul flares with tango passion

no longer condemned to be among the frightened

but looking at fears that choked my freedom

toss the rose upon the tombs of my fright

entering the window, reconciled to life

*God has hidden from us the secret of things to come.  If we were only supposed to serve those who are going to persevere, the truth is we still wouldn't know how to pick them out from the others.  Even if it is only for an hour, we must relieve the pain and sorrow of our neighbor.

-Jean Sulivan

*...how does one continue to give without developing calluses on your hands - and on your heart?

-Jean Sulivan