The 7th letter
The tumbling dicey roll,
when yesterdays joy went AWOL.
One stray moment of remiss,
and everything flips upon its head…
a vacuum from the bliss.
Learning to breathe again,
can be a search between the gasps and deep sighs,
looking into a mirror with far away eyes,
staring into a sea barely recognized.
Taking the time for the silence to descend,
like a welcome old friend,
free from the heady cacophony,
the rattling hum in the fracture of the numb…
Staking a claim in the field of your own heart,
to lift the rocks from the stony soil,
in readiness, and endless toil,
to make ready for the planting again…
Spring comes again…
like a welcome old friend.
© Richard Michael Parker 2011