Those words

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Those words you breathe

As you lay them on paper

Leaving your narrative

To unfold

Is your sanctuary.

You are a poet and a muse,

Creating

Recreating life.

Your words

Hang like notes on paper.

You will not

Be contained

But be set free

As you fill pages of a notebook

With a life

Waiting to be lived.

J. HAMILTON

 

 

 

 

 

Lullaby

Walking

as snow falls on

A face wet with tears,

Blurry eyes,

Taking in a wintered path,

A white hospital room

With a lullaby to your 2 year old self,

My breath on your blue lips.

To a white blanketed park where i pushed you on a swing.

Me holding you in my arms,

A safe place.

Holding your hand

Until you let go

Somehow

Becoming the young man in the dark blue beret

And khaki uniform.

Yet the wind blows

And the icy snow stings my face

As i walk in winter hearing my lullaby

To my young son

Who grew up too soon.

J.Hamilton

Surrounded by snow etched trees,

White dusting thinly spreading between you and i.

It is strange to think

How quiet it is here.

My cold hands sinking into shallow coat pockets.

The only sound,

My pulse drumming inside my ears.

Inside me lives

A place as bare.

Stark.

As this one.

By. J. Hamilton