Waiting, standing silently, looking through the doorway,
gathering thoughts while the darkness surrounds.
Choices to make that cannot yet be seen.
Thoughts to the past
flash of memory when the line did not hold.
Pain that bleeds like a weeping heart, broken dreams
hope buried, in moments of weakness.
The body and mind struggle
a babe colt standing on shaking limbs.
Outside the doorway wind whips,
the sound aches the soul, current of force.
Full of fear and might with force
rattling the walls inside and out.
Clouds not seen can be felt
falling, darkness grows heavier under the weight.
The water spills, unrelenting
freezing needles that will prick at unprotected flesh.
Push through the darkness
walk through the doorway.
Stand in growing light, separate from the rain
apart from the wind.
Time has come, the clouds part
giving space to light.
A rainbow grows, half complete
leading the way.
Hold to the plan
the line cannot break.
Iron walls stand, side by side
guarding the left and protecting to the right.
Pushing and pulling trying to break down the line
time and trails the line does not move.
Come up short and lost this shot
time is left another try will come.
Once again the line will form and
push and pull moving along
Hold to the plan, move forward this time
inch by inch break through the line.
About the Creator
Deanne Jensen
I love to write. The one thing I don't like writing about is myself, ironic because that seems to be the one thing I do write about. I'm 53 and married for last time. I walk for stress release. I love Matchbox 20 the music fits me.
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