Motioned inside the ache of what breaks,
my limbs, they are stretched, called out to seek space.
finding the pathways hidden with twists
from all that tangles, from broken resist.
How deeply this pull does want in these arms,
they reach with far longing like the sky’s destitute,
tipping and touching with hands that sweep out
like wings former broken, now finding life’s route.
Pulse stirs within each breath that revolves,
unraveling, unwinding, revealing absolve.
Escorted within the quaking of mirth
comes joy freed upon life’s glory rebirth.
© 2017 Linda Willows
“In the Care of Your Glorified mists”