Loving Self

Loving Self

By Rhonda Davis

As the windmill becomes still,

A shift in your soul aches to be whole.

The lonely part of that black space that lingers behind the false lines of fear,

Can’t hear the beating of a heart torn apart.

Thrown below into a false safe place, it asks the question, why now? And how?

As you grope to find the hope inside,

An old familiar killer lingers,

Wringing untold secrets at last,

Whispering from your past.

Don’t listen, hasten to close your ears to the jeering, taunting, haunting lies, don’t die, live.

Give your soul the wholeness it finally is willing to seek, look into a mirror and say,

I love me.

Find the hole, fill your soul with what it needs to breathe, and say, I love me.

See, I love me.