01/24/2020
My thoughts were raging.
But gentle was your warmth that
calmed all my quiet.
For quiet was my journey
and I was drifting alone.
’twas disengaging,
suffocating, spiraling.
And then you heard me.
Carefully you reached for me;
you held me and I was home.
feature image by Xuan Loc Xuan
Sparkles and Poetry 