Poetry – Art Therapy with Kimberly

What a nurturing and gentle person she’d be!

A surprising insight into my subconscious via a tissue box

You only have to let the soft animal of your body unlearn everything capitalism has taught you

Grief is not something you complete. It’s a new dimension of self.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.

Slip off your shoes,
and set them by the door.

Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.

I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.

You better slow down, don’t dance so fast,
time is short, the music won’t last.

I can hear the ringing in my ears, the wind in my hair and his warm hazel eyes on me. It feels like a dream.