Winds billow the cloth that holds together
the pieces of a tattered heart,
standing on the edge of a dream remembered
and holding to the invisible hope
that anchors the sanity of a soul.
Body leaden and tired
it moves slowly to the rise above,
higher and higher seeking
the steps beyond the madness.
There is a quiet peace
like a frayed rope that still finds use,
braided like a delicate chain
and thrown to save the drowning mind
just out of reach yet knowing
there will be some salvation.
Turning to face the light of triumph,
we stand tall to catch each fragment
through experience we gather the courage to start
over again and one by one the falling steps
move down the other side,
we have been here before
in dreams and life,
the familiarity breeds a sense
as forward movement draws a sigh
of contentment at the journey’s end.
Beautiful art by: Ibuki Satsuki
