From the Ashes
Sometimes fires burn out of control....
Orange and red blaze together
The dance symbolic of rebirth
Engulfing those clung to memories
Not worthy of your hurt
********
The dance hastly becoming desolate
Spreading embers where not intended
Threatening to ignite entire fields
If they are left unattended
********
Formidable clouds loom over you
Pouring down a cleansing rain
Finally quenching those ruthless fires
Which only brought more pain
********
Radiant flowers grown from ashes
The sopping remenants of dread
Can rejuvenate once scorched earth
When you nurture it instead
********
Be sure to visit often
Weeds take over untended field
If they're removed more carefully
Your soul can finally heal
About the Creator
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Picking Up The Pieces
As I settle myself in to mentally prepare myself to write, I feel cautiously content. I have a cat cuddled up beside me — a former stray that chose to adopt us a handful of years ago — the birds outside my bedroom window are singing their morning chorus, and the gentle pitter-patter of rain is making me feel hopeful that Spring may finally be here to stay. I normally listen to music while I write. I find that it helps to drown out the racing thoughts that typically veer me off track. I can become distracted by the most inconsequential things. Today, the sounds outside my bedroom window is enough to keep me grounded.
By Megan Oliver3 years ago in Motivation
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I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
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