Poetry

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She cries alone
in the abandoned field
where love has withered
and worms gorge on dead dreams.
She is not lost – she knows exactly where she is.
For you see …
she lives here.

She sleeps alone
on the bed of despair
where torrential rains
and pelting hail bruise her soul.
She cannot leave – she knows exactly what she is.
For you see …
she is nothing.


He walks alone
in the abandoned field
where love won’t grow
and compost settles on decaying dreams.
He is not lost – He knows exactly where He is.
For you see …
He died here.

He waits alone
by her tattered heart
where He spreads His wings
to cover her wounds and broken soul.
He cannot leave – He knows exactly who she is.
For you see …
He loves her.


She stirs secure
under shelter warm
where life renews
and hope restores fragile dreams.
No longer lost – she knows exactly where she is.
For you see …
she belongs here.

He suffers alone
by her bed of slumber
where torrential rains
and pelting hail bruise His wings.
No …
He will never leave – He knows exactly what she is.
For you see …
she is everything.




Pat Guy
©2006

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