Holy Ground
As light rises
My eyes fall
Upon his temple
Arm raised to ease the pain
Of the damage of an old storm,
Lips pursed against
A dream he won’t remember
Reminding me
Of last night’s worship
With the temple of my own soul’s abode
Happy that these buildings
Are now anchored together
And hoping to join against
The weather of life times
As long as they stand.
for more from Jeni, at ‘Skyscrapes for the Soul’, click here: https://jenibate.wordpress.com/
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
