Untitled

The wild spirit
at our centers
that moves hands to write
eyes to open
voices to sing
can be stilled
into static silence
by a single fear.

Do not fear?

How can I not fear
to lose the core
of all the good
all the creative impulse
all the voices in me
if your spirit
could no longer
touch mine?

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in love, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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