it’s something

talking to this itch…

It’s hard to say when I’ll be back

coming from a place I haven’t left

When the mood  quivers?

when the dam breaks?

when the heart beats ?

reach toward the sky

climb out from under the stale air

below,

nothing is left, nothing is left

growth needs nurturing refreshing freshness

a change of skin

something never experienced, is that  possible?

the death of silence

that’s the prayer request

 

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