I took your poem as of my own,
A ~garment~ poem for me.
It fit so well, custom-made,
I tried it on for thee.
I spun around, before I knew,
it was an evening gown.
I wish you could have seen me,
a beauty of renown.
A shimmering mist did fill the air
as I whirled and twirled about.
The only part of me to see,
my eyes were peeking out.
For your love just sparkled all
with kindness, covered me.
With the depth of your sweet caring
and, the show of empathy.
I spun round and round and round
Til I had shiny gossamer wings,
I flew right up to heaven
where all the angels sing.
I saw Him just like that you see.
"Not time for you to come home."
Your healing comes from others
and the precious ~garment~ poem.
I floated back to where I was.
Light as a feather, I was free.
One thought of all that tenderness,
and, no pain was haunting me.
Seriously doubt**that poem was
especially for me, but
it sure had all the earmarks,
of my tortured history.
Now, if you poet, ever need
-your pain- I'll slip on me,
or try your ~garment poem~ yourself,
it heals so magically.
I'd like to give you more than this
But that's all you required from me
to feel your healing warmth, as sun
and on the cutting edge of free.
No matter who is was written for I thank the kind poet, from the depth and breath and heart of me.
**Engaging Exodous by Ron Travis
without surrender, be on good terms with all persons...
[This message has been edited by regards2you (10-10-2002 05:35 AM).]