Mixed media image and poem ©Debbie Berk 2017
Mute
I am lost no words to guide me through this silence alone going deeper into the void no voices speak yet I wait without promise of rescue no whispers of hope ©Debbie Berk
It Watches……
A short story I glimpsed again the shadow, heard the sound once more, a faint, desperate cry……distant. There was a knock at the door, no one there. Turning away from the window I hear the crash of breaking glass and I could almost feel the sting of a freshly cut wound, the warm blood…
In this living that is not…
all that is left of the sacred are the sorrows lost to the mourning shadows of shame in the deep wounds of knowing of no tomorrows to come, of hearing no callings of death beyond, no voices of hope, not one to welcome us home but only the silence of a whispered prayer screaming into…
