Guest guest Posted December 12, 1999 Report Share Posted December 12, 1999 Ah, now, Wee Mac... NOW we get down to the nitty-gritty... What a beautiful poem (and - dare I say it? - poet) we have here. Thank you. (This to the strains of an anonymous 15th. c. Missa Caput - always play a Mass on Sundays)... The point is : you DID dare... And we are the richer for it. Thank you again. m Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted December 12, 1999 Report Share Posted December 12, 1999 In a message dated 12/11/99 5:35:06 PM Central Standard Time, caillech@... writes: << Redemption In the tangle of the woods A wee wild thing called to me.. Long lost, banished A thin chilled child. Tattered spark of soul-life Breathing frozen phrases. And my deaf ears Stopped up, and my eyes unwilling. My voice so long blown away. You are appalling In your need, your hunger overwhelms me. Will you have my last? Somehow and somehow Calling my compassion, far from well ordered ways. Souls barter to flee from you, Hush, hush little one Let us be together lost. I will teach myself to lend you warmth, I'll warm your tiny toes With my last breath To save my soul. I'll murmur little words To ward us through the night - Recalling all lost lullaby's. I will gather you in, And comb out all the tangles From your sleepy hair. Fearlessly, Mac >> Allyson......how magnificently your words moved inside me. The tears fell, the recognition of my own " thin chilled child " and her never ending need to be recognized, loved and " seen. " How pure are your words. Beautiful! Thank you for warming all of us. Love, Cheryl Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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