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Finding You

By Mila Clarke

I find you
A small child, all alone.
Staring, bewildered and hurt.
Hands clasped and bloody
From the heart
That weeps on your wrist.
You know well
The course you must take
But you fear the storms,
Hinges rusted through
On now un-battened hatches.
You, my tattered sail
Clinging to the mast of
A well travelled ship.
I go to you,
Look into your sad dark eyes,
Stand at your side as your shield,
My hand on your shoulder,
A bridge of needs,
Lean into you;
Two fallen
Balanced trees,
Striving to lay down roots
Before December gales.
A fond weary face
Nuzzles my hand,
Gifts it with a kiss,
Holds it with gentle fingers
To a friendly face.
His fingers slip
Away from mine
But on them
His cheeks find
A resting place.
Untold are the trials,
Unasked for
Go the explanations,
They weigh heavy
On your heart…
I only wish I could
Lighten the load a while.
Utter small comfort
To bring candlelight,
A hopeful sentiment,
To a veiled great star.
The minutes that slowed,
Watching this memory,
Race forward to regain the
Time that was lost.
Draw my hand from its caress
And settle my arms around your neck,
A last few words to
End the scene,
One last squeeze,
An unspoken promise.
Do not fret my burdened friend;
You shall have in me
The tree that made the mast
And the shield that was the ship,
I have found you.
You shan't be lost again.

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