Poetry #107: Wounded Healer Friction

Sacred alchemy

The wounded healer

The ultimate scar concealer

Your wound becomes a window

Spilling out light into the world, take an arrow and a bow

Tripping up in this blind forest, keeping sanity in tow

This path is tortous and steep

The gorge beside is remarkably deep

Thousands of moments we weep and weep

With our skill and hard earned art

The gift is there to open our fellow soul’s hearts

Illness is an altered state

A sense of isolation and depression correlate

Helplessness drowns out the sound

One day my will and power will pick me off the ground

Fear is the friction in transitions

Shapeshifting, warping into a magican.

~DiosRaw 18/02/21 08:30AM

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s