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Penthos

A depth without flesh resting in my chest, bleak

Without desire. Cheerless yet comforting,

Open to sorrow, accepting shadow, quiet.

An ebony man uncurls, unfurls and stares with cobalt eyes

Right into me. No genteel sheet hides his skin

No gauze shades his eyes. Blue black he gleams,

A twisted smile twitching his mouth’s corner.

Flat as a new soul, he says nothing

But bears a mountain of mourning.

Shadows have collected, coalesced and packed weight

Into his muscles, strong and potent, flexed to hold

His many losses. He does not cry, but his gaze burns

Bright blue like the sky.

I work as a counsellor and coach in the Hungerford and Marlborough area, and also via Skype and telephone.

Posted in Purpose, Meaning, Spirituality Tagged with: , , , , , ,

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