Wounded

Like rain from the sky
Like waterfalls cascade to the stream
Like the wind shakes leaves from their branch
And like the wounded bird plummets to the earth

Coming into my view now
I see it; I see what; I see how
And trying to erase the blow
I feel numb; I feel feeble; I feel weak

Like the stinger fallen off a dead bee
Like the withered petals of a dead rose
Like the decaying carcass of a dead deer
And like the burnt brush of a dead forest

Left there in an state of disarray
I can’t move; I can’t breath; I can’t survive
And trying to glue back the pieces
Too broken to fix; too jagged to repair; too chipped to put together

Like waterfalls cascade to the stream
Like rain from the sky
And like the wounded bird plummets to the earth
Like the wind shakes leaves from their branch

I’m wounded.

MS 7/31/08