Where do you go when
resentment, its steely
grip a vise around
your mind, your heart, tells
you you are safe here
protected here, and love,
a brilliant thing, lies
covered, discarded on
the floor?
Battered and bruised, we
keep moving, our feet
upon the bumpy
path. But pick it up
now, put on what was
lost, wear it over one
shoulder and another
so, for the first time,
with eyes open now,
you can see.
This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com
