Spring bursts in firstborn green
And summer smirks its rapturous blooms
But autumn's gifts are hard to beat
Gold and gems laid at our feet.
 

Sorrow presses hard
Staring out my eyeballs like the devil
Heart clouds gather
The rain streaks my cheeks.

Withdrawn child – be tender with yourself
Your heart is hand blown glass
Cup it in your hands
Caress the vulnerability
This day is a frail day –
It is treasure easily shattered.
Hold it gingerly - cherishing



This was the original, very personal version of this piece:
Upon waking I did not know that this would be one of my frail days
But the day looms before me - an enemy poised to fight - and me with no fight.
One foot before the other - barely
One thought to another - barely
Struggling to see outside my brain.
Sorrow presses hard - staring out my eyeballs like the devil.
Heart clouds gather and rain streaks my cheeks.
Today I must be a child withdrawn -tender with myself.
My hands caress my heart's vulnerability -
Not a bouncing ball today but glass hand blown.
Today is one of my frail days.
I hold it gingerly - treasuring.