I rise daily from troubled sleep attempting to make sense of imagery.
I magination inside me peeks, anxiety occupies blanks with grief
C onscious wars with angry speech, again I decide to rationalize.
O nward, up, fight - ours is not to reason why ours is but to do or die;
N ever give up, never give in- decide what's right, begin again.
I nward look and find your truth, outward search to find your own truth
I f man or woman was not meant to grow and change we'd die unclaimed.
C onsider this my icon's face, an aged woman, bathed in grace
O nly be kind, its all she asks, to each other; it's the right path.
N ow you know my ICON; be strong, be kind, and carry on.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015