The insanity is dead
All red about the sky
So cold against the wind
This day shall flee
It is thirsty
It is wandering
Blurring at the end
Mirror to My Soul by Heather Mirassou
A personal blog sharing heartfelt poetry inspired by nature, beauty, and soulful reflection.
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The hills have holy feet
Take your baptism.
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So alone in a cage
She rolls and rolls
Into a safety net
Into a cloak
Her dream catcher
Begins to unravel
Her sheath
Her cocoon
It is not sudden
It has taken
A lifetime
Her net undone
The butterfly
Confused
Flutters
Lost from home
She no longer
Fights or spins
On a string
She opens her wings
She free falls
Blind and courageous
Caught by a warrior
Finally free -
He tells me I am as precious as a gem
I am like a brilliant star in the sky
Shinning bright and full of life
That my soul shimmers
And that I am full of delight
I am his beloved
And his treasure
He is blessed beyond measure
This love enlightens my soul
And makes me feel whole
That I am a graceful lady
And he is a strong man
We spend each day anew
And love each other as best we can
Making a future together
With a promise to love one another
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We are as one in chatter, laughter and silence.
We are like moonbeams tied to each other with rope.
We float trusting each other not to let go.
We are like falling stars, shining through each others eyes, mesmerized.
We are like the ocean, waves dancing at the shore in unity drawing each other in.
We are like Redwood trees whispering sweet nothings in the wind.
We are like wildflowers blooming side by side roots intertwined.
I find you in every breath of air, in the curve of the horizon.
With you love is not fleeting. It is the earth beneath my feet. The sky above my head. The eternal space between heartbeats where our souls meet and never part. -
I unzipped my backpack of silence,
tossed out the shame stitched deep in the seams.
Each memory, each bruise, each whispered lie
I let them scatter like dead leaves in the wind.
No more hiding in locked rooms of myself,
No more shrinking in doorways when rage wore a familiar face.
I am not an echo of his voice,
I am not the cage he built.
I am a crack in the wall,
where the sunlight broke anyway.
I am the sound running not from, but toward something new.
Toward breath, sky and me.
My backpack is empty now, except for courage.
Mirror to My Soul by Heather Mirassou 