March 14, 2005

Poem for Wendy

Were you aware, were you awake
did you realize
that although you were poor
happiness is free?
You were tangled up in others
and forgot what you once knew:
your love gave invisible acts of power.
Who knows what was in
your secret book of wishes.
Yours was no mediocre madness;
you found no healing tonics here;
and now you know lonely runs both ways.
When they found you,
your lips were as white as wine.
Who were you really, wanderer?

Posted by Butterfly Emerging at March 14, 2005 10:05 PM


Good for you. I'm struggling with going back to school as a music student now, after a long stint crippled by extremely severe depression and anxiety. They tell me that the struggle is worth it, so I'll keep trying. What a lovely poem you have written about each of our uniqueness in our struggles. Stay on your meds :-)

Posted by: Ingrid Haugen at December 2, 2006 01:48 AM

Post a comment

Please enter this code to enable your comment -
Remember Me?