unfinished symphony

Jonathan70 @ photobucket

Child of mine,

torn

from my gut

before

you could ever draw

the sharp breath of life,

Torn

by my grief and his

greed, left to

bleed

for months on end ---

my aching womb

the only sign

of you.

Ah, to see

your face.

And I, now

damned

to live on the sidelines

of other families' lives,

feeling their love

so deeply,

loving them

so deeply,

yet never quite able

to be one.

Child of mind,

my guilty sadness,

my unfinished symphony --

every note I sing

I sing

                       for you.

Ah,

to see

your face.

timeoutofmind

The Alchemy of Tears

(alchemicaldiagrams)

When seeking out the formula for gold,

Faust, in his blindness,

overlooked the soul.

Its insubstantial quickness

as it grinds

against the course rough edges

of the mind

produces just the proper

substantiation,

                          that

when applied to physical

limitation,

produces the balm of the priceless:

                  

                                            tears.

My tears fall

for the boundless hopes

I've borne

that were cut short

by the miserable, measurable truths

of living among men (and women).

My tears                 Yours, too:

            delicate, 

          painful

&

          fleeting.

They are the priceless

elements we humans

all

have the capacity to produce:

                   the miracles of

                       compassion

                                   loss

                                   and

                                  love

that help us to live on.

( buriedinwater )

(The tiny blue teardrop above comes from the following website,
http://webbyfun.lbbhost.com/Homepage/teardrops.html
and should include the language:
"I put this teardrop here to show my support for all the abused children of the world."




The poem above 
is mine.)