Entombed Body, Free Spirit

I imbibe in the wallowing wine,
Not of my taste, she is bitter.
I must wash away my sorrow,
Swallow the sadness that darkens my spirit.

A sour, bitter woman
I must not become.
A woman who poisons others with my dour view, I cannot become.

Awaken me from my sorrowful, soured, saddened slumber.
Awaken me to all that I will do yet in my life.
Awaken me to all that I will know yet in my life.

I cannot succumb.
I must not become.
Tempting though it may be,
I cannot enlist in the battle of antagonistic righteousness.

Hard though it may be,
My needs I must share.
Yet, how?
When?

Entombed body,
Give me room to sit.
Give me space to stand,
Entombed body.

Free spirits,
Together may we sit,
Together may we stand,
Free spirits.
                                     Undated, before 2008.
                                     Most cleansing of all therapy is writing.
                                     No burden is too heavy--no pain                                                    too intense for the healing--the freedom--                                      writing provides.
                                     I treasure her gift.