Cobwebs and frost
grow on padlocked hearts;
their shield a prison
with palisade boundaries
a limiting leash
a binding curse.
The dull territory
of yesterday
sentry at the gate
with no hope of tomorrow.
The open heart
a vulnerable
dangerous, beautiful place
beckons colour
and the key
to locked places.
Wind blows, storms come,
blood may flow
but the kiss of sunset splendour
invites investment.
1 comment:
So true. When we open ourselves to love and relationships, we find color (however you spell it!). Loved the photo with your poem.
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