Morning Poetry 24 Feb 2011

Walking
the hallways
of an
unreliable world
Body gripped
by
vague
apprehension.
Unsafe. Unsafe.

Lightning bolt
strikes.
A sharp
crack
inside.
Some
of a
surprised me
leaks through.
Wake up!
You Are real. Alive!

Balm for a
pain-wracked
body.
A weary
psyche.
These tastes,
drops of
sweet nectar,
find their way.
Somehow. How?

Settled
Soft
Held in
Compassion.
Tears of
gratitude
well up,
spill
down
my
cheeks.

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