Soul mates
O brother, sister, soul mates
I ache for you.
For your strength,
understanding, courage
Love and belief in me.
When I lost my way,
you were my guide,
in times of joy, my
laughter.
But always,
knowing for the soul.
Now, I am adrift,
lost in a sea of
lonliness, despair
and unknowingness.
For there is no one
else to take your
place.
I long
to hear your voice,
your laughter, your pain, your touch, your looks,
your unforgettable love and knowing of me!
©Copyright January, 2009 Cindy L. MacDonald. All Rights Reserved.
Pages
There once was a writer named Cindy.
Whose words flowed relentlessly, onto her pages.
Her many colors, splattered, here and there, everywhere.
Expressing every thought, desire, dream, and fear.
Sometimes, in powerfully, flowing, prose.
Other times, scripted sharply, with endings denied.
But always, always, with grace and with light.
Each thought, revealed.
Each feeling, exposed.
Each fear, voiced.
And each dream, hoped.
Ribbons of joy, breezily blowing onto paper.
Disappointments poured, dreams torn, hearts broken, hopes shattered.
Ages of worn.
Day light and dark night, interwoven and born.
Strewn here and there, across all the corners of her life,
like pieces scattered, crumbs, left behind.
Oh, the suffering, of her shattered dreams, of a world of fairy tale endings,
with hope shining bright, in between.
All of her demons, all of her angels, all of her Self,
draped across the pages.
By Cindy L. MacDonald November, 2010
Anger
Anger is red
a deep, dark, thick, blotch of paint, splattered, dripping down the wall
It blocks my sight
and blinds me from my light.
Tightness takes hold, in the pit of my stomach,
as adrenaline courses through me, and runs amuck.
I shake and I tremble, all over myself
as I, in this moment, forget my true Self.
A scream lodges in my throat that distorts my breathing
while all I want to do is to keep on screaming.
The high, piercing pitch, of this fury enfolds me
My heartbeat pounds out
while I shout
How dare her...
How could he...
It's a prison, I've created, of blades, you see
cutting, and slashing, and blinding me.
Where the cries of my tortured soul, remain,
until I cannot stand the pain.
Can I set myself free?
A question, I must ask of me.
I take a slow breath.
I start to relax.
I feel my pain, hiding just beneath the attack.
I hold my heart, that cries for relief
and let loose the tears that give way to peace.
I reassure myself, that I am safe
Then my anger, begins to abate.
I cradle myself in my own warm embrace
and send a small blessing to the one I did hate.
My breathing slows, my heart warms and I move on from here,
from fear to Love.
Written by
Cindy L. MacDonald
October 17, 2010
©Copyright 2010 Cindy L. MacDonald. All Rights Reserved.
