The recovery was in the discovery,
and I can only speak where I am headed.
There’s a joy in knowing that many are itching
to inquire without recovering from their sins.
Uprooted from the belly of the soul,
I am not what you think through the deceptive
eyes. You failed to recognize you are askew of lampshades
that obstructed the view that was fed to you during inception.
Contentious with the obsolete relationship, I am
active in my personal pursuit; therefore, this
season doesn’t provide any room for those I never entertained,
so, may I say our long strolls were well spent, but we had to
end just like every night when you lay your eyes to sleep.
I’ve turned my sorrow into seed; in the midst of it all,
the breeze held my right as a gentle reminder that you
are not alone, and some are not allowed in your season, thus
don’t need any explanation for their invitation.
Healing gives you breakthroughs when you least expect it,
and where diffident once hatched, its nest has filed asylum
elsewhere.
Learned to discern as one felt nullify the obstreperous than assumed
power, a source of satisfaction, reminded me of the duplicity that
clamored the veins that dazzled in the infirmary of sunlight.
Thank you, as I make my way out of the garden of the unknown,
and into the edified realm of pure mettlesome.
The abyss of the indigo had done better than perfect, in which
the reflection possessed the power to heal the broken heart and mend
all the wounds that pulled and tugged at your core.
It’s poignant to the sunrise as to the blossoming of cherry blossoms that
erects themselves in the spring. May your contribution has the tenacity to see daybreak and reach the hearts of the dead.
Copyright © 2022, by Sherley Delia, All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 