Though the themes don’t match, this art piece and the imagery in this poem speak to me of possibility.



I am surrounded by a cloud of witnesses
Both pain and joy held in their memories
They come holding out the fragrance
Of strength and resilience, 
Of compassion and inspiration,
They saw in me in the times
Our lives interlinked in the daily
Of living life in those moments that were

Their presence glow with an illumination
Lighting dark corners where ghosts
Once hid in silent threat to hope
They call inward leading my dreams
To the centre where the divine
Holds in gentle hands the seeds
Of dreams planted in me before
The storms ravaged my garden

Held through the years of disillusioned
Dreams the divine waited, held them safe
Until I was ready to receive them again
With reverence I carry them into
The garden where fallow ground
Stands ready to nurture new growth
Cleared and harrowed by these others
Witnesses of the life once lived



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