Stafish Olor Poet I do not know?

My Journal

Buried deep in its pages 
are traces of the trail 
taken by a life lived by 
trial and error 
Thoughts and ideas floating 
around light as a feather 
A few profound ones maybe, 
some sincere and others 
just silly really 
prayers, hopes and dreams 
leave their mark in there
all my fears laid out bare
and clues to finding my realm
nestled between the lines 
Bits of me caught in the text
by ink and glued on with love 
for the word and wonder at 
the mysteries of the world 
my tears captured and preserved 
as they flow through my memories
watering repressed anger, outrage
regret, grief,excitement, passion 
and even joy on occasion 
at times washing away the salt 
from my weeping wounds
tiny rivers of emotion snaking 
through a life well hidden
between pressed pages 
My journal is my confidant, 
Its confines conceal secrets 
some not even my own
A trusty friend, even when I'm 
being a crusty fiend
My steady ride or die 
On life’s often bumpy road 
At times even my confessional
where I can unburden my heart 
Its been a good reminder 
when I forget crucial details 
And proved to be a very precise 
time keeper on our varied travels 
It lays right next to my head 
under my pillow at night 
Away from prying eyes but
still close enough to my mind 
for us to hold fellowship 
in our intertwined dreams
and wake up aligned as one

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