What shall I do
with this chasm of heaviness
heaped upon worn
dusty shoulders;
brush its tangled locks
lay it down to pale slumber
bury it under vintage quilts,
sing it a lilting lullaby
filling the empty longing
in echoing corridors?
How might I warm
this bitterly biting frost
spreading deep within;
thaw it with a full cup of honeyed tea,
let it rest with a snap, crackle and spark of a fireplace,
blanket its shivering limbs until spring?
What shall I do
with these sacred splintered fragments of myself;
cuddle and cradle them in tenderness,
blanket them snuggly
in cotton swaddling
until they feel warm and alive at home in my heart again?
