Inner Strength

As if the moon is smiling boastfully When mist or rain and leaves are moving faster than your eye could catch. As if trees are curling up in pain beneath your tears, soon to be discovered - the manes of beasts streaming as they gallop through the fields toward you, flaming eyes that speak of evil. As if the past were leaves and leaving and the still window stands frail and dormant exposing a crippled soul. As if your eyes half closed and the slit of light got brighter, caught in liquid glass, an orchestrated prayer. As if this blaze of white on grass were more than strength and blue an unknown peace. The length of the valley a sombre sea, battered and bruised by memories, fears, revisited torture. The waves of hatred churn. And you, a child in rough weather shouting louder and louder as you sink beneath oppressive grasps. Stand firm, intoxicate yourself with self acceptance. A secret, an antidote that whispers truth - hard bread for the palate, liquid too hot for the lips. Love.