Sacred Spaces
It was a sacred conversation
in hushed tones
between two ladies wearing aprons
working in the kitchen.
They shared stories
of their loved ones
who suffered with maladies
that so readily
visit on this planet
of challenges and woes.
It was a sacred conversation
between two mothers,
and in the words
and in the frowns
came small smiles--
a parting of the clouds,
a slant of sunshine,
your troubles are not mine,
and mine are not yours,
but by the sacred conversations
our hearts become lighter.
Hélène
Mon 10th Apr 2023 15:12
Thanks for comments Manish, Stephen, & John! I so enjoy reading the tidbits of analysis. You make me notice things in the poems I didn't notice when writing them. That's one of the things I love about poetry and all forms of art...it often taps into the subconscious (even at times the "superconscious" (soul) level) perhaps?). A poet without a reader is like a song without a melody. Thanks to all writers & readers on WOL!