Poem: Burial Elements


Burial Elements

A bowl to catch my blood.
A box to hold the remains,
all neatly packed away
awaiting forgiveness
that may never come,
and a resurrection
that will.

About this poem

When people batter me (emotionally, and yes, a few still do), I still bleed. I still suffer. But I guess I have finally hit grown up status. I let the pain go to the appropriate places, and wait for the healing.

Which always comes.




  1. Beautiful Tom. Its amazing to me, how we grow, continually. I used to think there was a point where that was all finished and we could just live. Now, I understand why that isn’t so. Gratefully.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s