On The Mountain
we allowed out worries to fall, fall to the bottom along with our hurt...
On the mountain
Tree’s can’t bloom until they grow
grow deep roots and bloom flowers out of ashes
ashes from the burnt pages of our past
burned while we cried
and in time, our hearts healed, until we were able to laugh again
the serenity of it all
On the Mountain we allowed our worries to fall
fall to the bottom, along with our hurt
we laid our shattered pieces down
no longer broken, no longer torn apart
Scar’s now filled with gold speckles of love, love of self and for the Women sharing our paths, we relate
and we reflect
as the sun reflects off the windows through which we look
now so clear
the world we’ve opened our eyes to see
discovering, now, the Women we are intended to be...
About the Creator
Tracy Toccara
Aspiring poet, writing for the addict in recovery, the struggling addict, the sober addict and writing to create addiction and mental health awareness.
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More stories from Tracy Toccara and writers in Poets and other communities.
Snow Need to Rush
I watched my breath form a small white cloud as it puffed out of my lips and dissipated before my eyes. I rubbed my hands together, blowing into them with the precious bit of warm air that remained in my lungs. My leg bounced as I stared into the cold dark world beyond the windows of my truck as they remained partially fogged up.
By Donna Fox (HKB)5 days ago in Fiction
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