Morning 


Morning settles quietly over my favorite chair,

Lingering edges of nightmares, those darker thoughts dissolving mercifully into daylight.
Curled up with sweet relief,

Comfort held steaming from my favorite coffee cup,

Restless sleep fading with each sip.
This is my sanctuary,

My safe harbor…

This morning light,

Drawing me further within the safety of rising sun.
Chelsey Whitlow 

Rise


Daydreams sustained her,

Through the nightmares,

Through the darkness years.

 

Stories and lyrics held her,

Broken pieces wrapped in comfort and companionship.

 

Silent, pleading prayers of distant others,

Kept her head above the salty waves,

Hands grasping for sky and air and light.

 

 

Despair tried to extinguish her light,

Numb sorrow, to contain her always in shadow,

Fear, to burn her down to ashes….

 

Ah, if only they had read her real story,

the one whispered in the cracks in-between,

If only they had remembered to whom she belonged,

They would have seen…..

She was always meant to rise.

 

Chelsey Whitlow