The Source

There is no measure
for all beauty
all compassion
care and kindness
well up from
the same source
Trickling over
hearts of stone
wetting deserts
of punishing loss
it finds the low places
and slowly
fills them
In time others see
the still pool
of sweet water
kneel to drink
and soul is refreshed
Yet the source
of the spring
is not in the earth
it is born in the hearts
that have
bled through tears
of pain and joy
until the water
has no choice
but to rise


© W.R.R. 7/19/2011
For all survivors of any form of rape or abuse; you are not alone. Speak out. Find your path to healing.

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.

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