Turbulent tempest rises from within, mere earthly matters malignantly breach the borders where the spirit lives, tears mix with the salty sea, Wind whips through as the harbinger singing, assures His army is near my shore. I see the Beacon from above coming for
s h i p w r e c k e d s o u l s
ON ITS WAY TO me. Never was I lost, never forgotten, never in jeopardy of drowning. These truths I knew which led me here, the S.O.S. of my heart He need not hear for He is ever-knowing, always inside, but also right on time, my location always known, sometimes granted though the visual signs that my soul is not alone. The Light so comfortingly warms, and I am homesick no more.
A poetic letter to me sent upon a wave and star to reach through time, back to where you are…
This “he” of your fantasies receives your Little Red Balloon and your whispers to be delivered by Moon.
He will continuously clean your mirrors until you see as he does, all of your beauty clearly.
You will weave wedding wildflowers in your hair and feel the wind whip freeingly through the despair.
You will radiate in dresses and feel feminine, barefoot and free upon grass and sand.
Your wavy locks will be teased by the breeze. Your hand outstretched for a companion will receive.
Your heart reopened will be filled to overflowing, exceeding your dreams with God-blessed reality.
Your voice in song will again reach the heavens, your loquaciousness endlessly received with eager anticipation.
That voice in your head and grip around your growth will fall away as he convinces you to love yourself.
Your faith will grow as anticipated; God will see you through as He always has. He knows always what is ahead. He will deliver love if you cut the thread…
You will not give your whole life to this verbally-abusive “man.” Soon you will be filled with enough courage to act. You will come to realize those decades of hurtful words were lies all along; you will come to know your worth.
Who you once long ago hoped instead you were will appear as unwavering truths in every mirror.
I am a mix of classic, old soul, timeless, monochromatic, black-and-white nostalgic, dreams suspended, cared for, frozen in time to thaw, hopeless romantic, most faithful disciple of hope and love,
but also from my core seeps light and color, the desire to bleed out the excess, emptying, unable to harbor; outwardly, it overflows a constant flood of emotion. Few are able to sustain that much ebbless influx from a misplaced ocean.
May I never lose my way to getting lost, may I never resist the urge to leave it all, may I never shelter my face from the storm, may I never let my arms fall in the downpour, may I never fully wash off the grit of the sand, and may I never be restrained by clock or human hand.
May I never negotiate with my soul: may I never let anyone close the window.