the wound in the stone

poetry

Trees, dripping with the sound of rain, against a grey sky
Crows caw back and forth in a vigorous discussion that drowns out the bird song
A cat burrows under the blanket
I gaze out the window

Amidst the backdrop of life around me,
My spirit calls me inward
To the voices, deep within
That ask me, to notice
Where I am alive
And where I am a silhouette o…