Exposed, vulnerable, scars are deep – some go unseen – just look in the eyes of another – the terror and torture of mind and body no longer hidden – beckons for love and light

Slowly she heals, one scar at a time with rhythm and rhyme

clock tick tocks- life marches on in the dark – glints of reason, art and season percolate in mind and heart

paper and pen flow within formulating words of comfort and glim

time is of the essence or so it seems until the pendulum swings back to start

healing takes time – be gentle they say – the ones who’ve trodden this road before – the ones whose hearts move like the sea gliding over the sandy shore –

healing takes time and this time is reminiscent of a time long ago, a time that only the soul knows ~ Anita Adams 6/8/2019