of silent sighs
deep groans of
internal contortion
winds howl through corridors of night
sucking life from tombs of loneliness
tentacles of stress
maniacally entangle
silently stealing
synapses of my soul
where are you
oh dweller of my spirit
maker of mind
Healer of my heart
giver of life
breathe into me
heave low and heavy
Your spirit
restore to me
the joy of your salvation
Patricia Spreng
Pulling out something from my past to join with d'verse poets... where you will find the wonderful words of poets. Tonight they are featuring poetry that encompasses the use of onomatopoeia and I thought this sounded about right. Thank God for his faithfulness, I am not in this place anymore.
oh those tentacles can be insideous...glad your maker is there to stand guard...smiles....nice one patricia
ReplyDeleteOoooh, been there, sometimes there right now, too. Thanks for this, Pat. Rejoicing with you that you've moved out of this particular valley.
ReplyDeletePerfect Sunday offering... thank you!
ReplyDeleteLovely write!
ReplyDeletethe sounds of silence - lack of sound...what a twist on the prompt! I like it a lot, Pat. Thanks for sharing it with us.
ReplyDeleteyes, heal the mind and heart
ReplyDeletebumble bee
The sigh and groan of prayer.
ReplyDeletebeautiful
ReplyDeleteYeah, I'd like a little of that restoration, too. Beautiful, Patricia.
ReplyDeleteThanks Megan. I'm just now seeing blogger is adapting a reply box... oh how wonderful(ly) too late! Hope you are well... I always love your fresh insight and honesty. You make me smile.
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