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Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #1115105
If you believe that energy never dies...what paths has your soul traveled in live past?
The sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds
while the flowers peek-a-boo the light.
Cicadas emanate their mournful hymn,
levitating hummingbirds suckle hanging fountains.
The warmth gently bids my eyes adieu
as they are hooded by lids without will.
My mind drifts from its casing to time born of shadow
when another housed this soul that is "I".
A nurturer, a healer, I feel the weight of others burden.
I say to them, I sing to them...chanting
I excise darkness that is the leech upon their spirits.
Dawn descends with no notice of the night's passing
and with it have gone ills that beseeched my tribe.
A drop of Holy water anoints my face
as I awake with a start at the beginning of a slight drizzle
to the cry of a 3 year old who banged his finger.
Armed with bandage and iodine I forge the sandbox,
for I am the nurturer...
I am the healer.
© Copyright 2006 cindynaz (cindynaz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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