"They say time heals all wounds"
Like a restless child awaiting Christmas dawn,
I linger in hope for healing’s gentle touch,
For my body to release the shadows of trauma,
For memories to cease their hold and relinquish control.
But time, slow as a snail’s silent crawl,
Remains elusive, distant in the mountain fog,
Unattainable as a fading star,
Unforced, it drifts at its own, timeless pace.
Time flows like an aged river,
Winding, weary in its ancient age,
I struggle to learn its slow, sacred dance,
To humble myself before its patient grace.
Embarking on this sluggish voyage,
Helpless, solitary against fierce winds,
Faces the storm of pain,
Waves of memories crashing upon my embodied soul.
Triggers flare like distant thunder,
Revivals of wounds long sealed,
Dreams replay the pain,
Night whispers echoes of suffering.
I fight to unchain these memories,
Yearn for release, for escape,
Cry out in silent despair,
Calling upon my God, seeking solace.
Yet, in the quiet, time whispers,
"I am your friend,
Crawl, creep, follow my lead,
I will guide you to liberation."
Beloved Reflections 