Skip to content


October 10, 2014

The moment came

when wonder turned to tears

and tears turned

to great gasps of panicked breath.

She leaned forward

and drew her shoulders in

and tucked her chin

as she wrapped

her arms around herself,

willing herself

to not blow apart,

unaware that she already had.

As she sat there

pulled in

as tightly as she could manage,

the hand of mercy

reached down and rested

upon her back,

the pressure somehow

stemming the bleeding

that streamed

from an unknown source.

And though she

could not stop

the tears,

she was not immune

to the comfort

flowing from that hand,

flooding her being

with the strength it would

need for the coming days.

Had she known


she needed strength

it is possible she would not

have permitted

the hand to stay.

But ignorance

is bliss, they say,

and there on the floor,

a hair’s breadth away

from hysteria,

she clung to that thin thread

with all she had,

unable to fathom




5 Comments leave one →
  1. October 10, 2014 4:18 am

    A lingering and deep sense of grief and foreshadowing – that’s what this poem leaves with me. Beautiful!

  2. October 10, 2014 11:09 pm

    Regina said it perfectly. Despair is what I read into it. But then, it also reminded me of the woman that touched Christ’s coat so her bleeding would finally stop. How she had been so desperate to be healed.

  3. October 10, 2014 11:10 pm

    Now that I read it again, I believe it might be speaking of woman being abused.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: