Motioned inside the ache of what breaks…
my limbs, they are stretched; called out to seek space.
finding the pathways so hidden with twists
all those that tangle and cause broken resists.
How deeply this pull does want in my 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 absolves,
unraveling, unwinding, uncurling pain’s cry
escorted within the quaking of mirth
comes glorious joy freed upon life’s rebirth.
© 2017 Linda Willows
“In the Care of Your Glorified mists”