There is a slight weeping that I hear when almost sleeping.  A keening of mournful and soft longing. I want for the truth that could be dawning.  Is it my past calling or perhaps my present suffering a loss of falling?   I’ve let go of my chainful haunting hangings that were my past.  Now I believe against the walls my future is banging at last.  To let go of the identity that drove my waking hours…  what will I cling to when the milk of life begins to sour.

I’ve known grief and sorrow as twin friends.  I thought we would conquer the world together forever till the bitter end. The pounding in my head that would fill my life with dread, has now become a musical of stringing notes of flight.  Possibly even lyrics to which I can delight.  Fanciful… Is this my life?  Are gone the days of drowning and of bitter bile corroding all sounding?  Dare I embrace this field of lilies and bees? The sweet taste of honey has brought me to my feet.                I’m no longer begging on my knees!!!

© 2021 Kat J Phillips