Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Sky in Winter


My life is one of gentle servitude,
in the most unusual ways,
my moments and memories are filled day after day,
with the collection of the broken, those no longer brave.

My gaze pierces straight through their clever charades
to see the wounds where life and love have been cruel,
and when I reach through to the inner core of a soul,
I learn just why we have met, and what I am called to do.

It is time for a patch of healing with the energy of love,
though they may never even know that it has been done,
for they may not be far enough along on their life’s journey yet
to have their pain discovered and consciously known.

To engage one with such intensity can unsettle a soul,
and most times they swim away to the calmer shallows in the sea,
but sometimes I am blessed with a glance of the energy I shared,
when they venture by and rekindled hope in their eyes I can see.