Poem Number 345

From the Heart

a year ago
a bit more perhaps I found my way
onto these pages

I hadn’t written anything in a long time
and precious little before that

My pen was mute and I

I was drowning in the profundity
of a smothering blankness

The voices here were compelling to read
and I slurped them up like a hungry child

I posted poems I had written years before
after my father had died
a time in my life when I was slowly turning blue
pumping blood through my veins
with the half of my heart
that wasn’t torn away

You resuscitated my pen
gave it back its voice and its color

and awakened my dreams
and I ran with that ball, and I ran and I ran

It felt good to run
It still feels good
and I can’t stop now
I don’t ever want to stop

you gave legs to my imagination
and painted dreams on my heart

my veiled angel

my island girl

my secret

Valentine

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Creamy, smooth. Well done.
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..and rare. :)