…we are never alone
even when darkness tames
our need for sight we remember
that which brought the light
a touch a smile a word
that healed we remember
words
hurled that cut
besieged
until we bled and blood
congealed
fed by fury
or indifference words
took their toll
left us
bruised less
than whole
words are seeds
that flower
or may grow
in the garden of our need
like weeds
words are the metaphor
for deeds
for kindness longing hope
for dreams
you fling the words
a dart
that wounds
or settles
like a drop of rain
on desiccated soil
replenishing the heart…
– Susan A. Katz (All rights reserved)