Heaven, earth conspire;
lift my eyes beyond this mirage.
A stormswell thunders in these meanstreets
while the softer raging
behind closed doors
behind doors, behind doors still
a labyrinth to
this heart billowing.
clouds soon to unleash
me.
mama thought she knew me, grew me but
these storms conspire to make me real.
come the rain, wash away the rubbish and let’s make new
fields flourishing songs singing loudly
softly out their fruit of love
love
love.
J. Ruth Kelly 
wish we were closer. think i would like to sit down and talk more, sing more, or enjoy the silence with you over a tall glass of iced tea.
i’m right there wishing the same thing, gin. here’s to where we are in our hearts, at least. and the songs that keep us whole (and that wonderful glass of tea, too!)… oxo…
I’ll sing to that! Great paicture and poem.
that’s it…let’s sing our way along these sometimes thorny trails… glad for you, leslie 🙂