Help me angels
for I am born of joy and passion
and since I left them
I am as a dead thing walking.
I ponder too much;
live and listen too little.
I dwell too often
in a dark place
of my own making
while ignoring
beauty around me;
too much focussing on
sadness and pain.
Help me serve.
Help me receive and give
your universal love
again.
Image: by Brett Critchley via Dreamstime.
***
Dear compassionate poetry friends… as some of you may know, I made this site private, for the past couple of weeks, in my attempt to get through the darkness in my head, as well to be better able to focus on an overwhelming number of practical tasks that needed taking care of. I would have announced it, had I known what to announce or how I would feel about it, or how long the “retreat” would last, if at all, but I didn’t know any of these things.
I’m now tentatively coming back online. Thanks so much for all your past love, support, and understanding. You’ve helped more than I can say. 💛
