poem
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With the love of new companions Angels that found me and a loving self I go To The wild path. Step out onto its mysterious threshold hurting, pained, afraid The first act of love To walk the wild path Alone, but not alone. Stones reveal their shapes Masking my pain. Unable to feel, their jagged…
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Its hard to write a poem and make, you read it slowly. Because I want to. What would cause you to read this Slowly, quietly, intentionally? Than you are right now Rushing.. To what…To get to the punchline? Please don’t rush Please don’t read it with caffeine. Read this instead, With tenderness Please, take your…
James Ballantyne 