I lived by the sea
collecting sand and water in a sieve to see what I could see
When I was three
there were five more of us all under the age of eight, four brothers and a sister, making six
two parents, a house, a few blocks away – we’d walk to play in the biggest playground I’d ever seen
When I was three
life was simple
play and nap
eat and snack
until the sun set and the moon rose
When I was three
life was an adventure
swimming in the ocean
playing in the sand
oh… life was grand!
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
A home
A husband
Loving children
a Frog named 8-ball
a working automobile
food in the fridge
clothes washer and dryer
eyes that see
a trip to the ocean
love to share
ears that hear
© Anita Adams 5/19/2017
Called to Write 