The Tempest

The mind knoweth not

Where the heart doth go

As a lovesick breeze of eagerness

Carries it to and fro


Having no knowledge of where or why

That former blissful wind came

The mind is not at fault

Only life is to blame


For this tumultuous storm rising

Leaving sheer destruction in its path

And a desperate longing for peace

To replace that which razed from wrath


Whilst shards of glass crumble

Under thy very feet

Thou too dost tread

Upon reconstructable debris


Forgiveness is an everlasting mortar

Well mending fragments of a broken heart

The mind now knoweth whence it came

And surely now, where to start



8 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. M. Zane McClellan
    Apr 12, 2014 @ 02:47:29

    Thank you for following my blog so I could be led to yours. I look forward to reading more of your work. I have enjoyed what I read. 🙂 Peace. ~ Michael


  2. buildingalifeofhope
    Apr 13, 2014 @ 16:25:25

    Your poems have such a variety of language to them. I can picture walking barefoot over the broken pieces here just as I can see forgiveness as mortar.


  3. Christy Birmingham
    Apr 14, 2014 @ 02:44:22

    The mind is playing with the heart – and the combination is exquisite, my dear friend!!


  4. Maxima
    Apr 19, 2014 @ 16:17:46

    Happy, peaceful and Blessed Easter,


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