This is a repost of a piece from Nov 9 2011. I was trying to edit it and could not get it to repost in the same place.
Made of sand, made of stone,
made of broken pieces of jagged bone.
Sometimes I am broken and bruised
and sometimes I am raw.
There have been healings and saving
and heaven on earth.
There are times I have been
stronger than this.
Paths that lead us forward
through the moments of life defined.
Roads that are littered with remnants of our past
that simply lie in wait.
There are ghosts out there on nights like this
whispers in the dark.
Sounds that drift like smoke in the air
things I can’t un-hear.
As the echo of my footsteps keep pace
with the pounding in my chest.
I move through doorways that were left wide open
and the shutters with the broken latch.
The memories are knocking on walls
the voices are singing their songs.
A cacophony of discordant souls
that are wailing in unison.
I can hear them although their language
is masked in a voice not their own.
Intrepid, undaunted, they feign sanity and peace
when the darkness has settled on them.
I walk along beside them
listening to their ancient song.
Rapt in the rhythm as it sinks beneath my skin
and the words tangle up in my mind.