Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Witching hour

She was spellbound in a white space
Surrounded by herself 
Humbled by the simplicity of inner darkness
How easy it was to be in solitude 
Yet how hard it was to be drifting alone

She reached through to the side of the world where her confidence slept
Shook colors from the past and lifted her vail
In beautiful hues, she painted a picture 
A hundred summers bloomed in her new frame of mind

~Heather