Where in the deep coils of your recesses do you seek to go
Where caring hearts, feels, and smells bring you back serenity
a touch, a being that whispers to your ear
safe, secure, you are these things here
The uphill climb , to the place where you find glory
Did you find it there, in your mass fortunes?
The winding perilous journeys of wild abandon
Then settling down to make your own , enlightened
The adventure of time, travel, and life seek to excite you
But the feelings still remain, what was once born there will be there again
The circular pathway you falter along
Leads you back to the past, the glimmer of consolation, to the feelings of
Home.
About the Creator
compassion24
Compassionate about people, processes and the human rights of others. I look for the good in people and my glass is half full, whether I fill it or someone else does. I hold a Doctoral degree in healthcare, and am a freelance writer
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Gone are the Hands
Gone are the Hands I walked out of the unit and down the hall, half of the speed of which I had walked in The normal chattering of the voices were no longer there, people visiting, their nods and smiles as they usually passed by now a ghostly image replaced by an eerie stillness that hovered in the silence.
By compassion244 years ago in Poets
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