Musings and Doubts About Myself


who are we
to say she
was not wonderful
in this day god made her so sweet?

who are we
to say she
could not be,
sitting side by side with me
in the afternoon breeze?

(when I see the future
I don’t see her in wonderful colors
but I do see a nestling spot
a resting spot
a holy little shrine, to find my peace
where to pray, where to breathe.)

I love this new part of myself
a delicate, shy unfurling,
from the curling stem to the pink petal;

and though I dont like
putting myself into a tight worded box,
it makes sense, and
its what you do when
everything else around you
is slipping.
So I put my feelings away to where they should be,
and ask myself
what is the true religious meaning of
expressive relief?

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry 


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