River of Tears
Volcanic rage erupts from deep within –
No matter where or when, it roars and spits.
Shattered mirror reflecting my every flaw –
Bleeding shards of glass slice through my skin.
The past sears me like a branding iron,
Desert land thirsts for rain and green.
Iceberg hides more than meets the eye –
Hidden book waits for someone to read.
Broken tune repeats the same old song –
Raging storm spiraling, out of control.
Toxic waste courses through my veins and mind –
Clipped wing trapping me, a hawk confined.
Nightmares haunt, shadows lurking in the night –
Onion tears peel off layer by layer.
Pearl of light sought in the depths, a dark sea –
Warrior fighting battles, yearning for freedom.
But rage can be cool, like lava finding repose,
Creating a new land of hope and peace.
And flaws can be mended like a stained glass window,
Radiating rainbows of beauty and grace.
And scars can be healed like a phoenix rising up,
Burning with a fire of passion and strength.
And life can grow again like a cactus in bloom,
Surviving with a spirit of resilience and faith.
And songs can be changed like a soft guitar tune,
Soothing with a melody of harmony and love.
And calm can be found like a lake of tranquility,
Reflecting with a mirror of clarity and truth.
And dreams can be hopeful like a starry night sky,
Sparkling with a light of wonder and joy.
And smiles can be joyful like a child’s laughter,
Bursting with a sound of happiness and fun.
And love can shine brightly like a diamond in the rough,
Glowing with a value of worth and dignity.
And grace can live fully like a lotus in the mud,
Flourishing with a beauty of purity and serenity.
This is how I cope with trauma,
but it’s not my whole story.
This is how I seek for healing,
but it’s not my only goal.
This is how I write my survival,
but it’s not my final chapter.
This is me, in all my river of tears,
but I’m more than words.
Can you see me? Can you hear me? Can you feel me?
Do you know me? Do you love me? Do you accept me?
Are you with me? Are you for me? Are you beside me?
This is me, asking for help, but I’m not weak.
This is me, breaking free from the chains of the past.
This is me, finding peace in the present at last.
This is me, creating beauty from the ashes of pain.
This is me, living fully toward sanity, a passion, arcane.
Copyright ©
Daniel Henry Rodgers
|