trouble in the valley

trouble in the valley

What to do with him?
What to do?
“Where is my little girl?
Where is the one who can want what I am?
Even when it comes out so grimy all the time.
Where is the one who can want this lie
with this wound buried sloppily underneath?
Even when I must admit that it’s just a lie
of strength used to hush the weakness
that bleeds all the time out my gut and through my days.
Where is someone where it can be nice,
where we can belong,
where we can be home
and not alone?”
We don’t know how to help him, how to nudge him towards the better, away from the worser; how to move with him with the compassion that guides by accepting, that speaks by listening.

Trouble in the valley, the valley so green
trouble for the coachman, his carriage and his team
trouble long the river that whispers as it churns
trouble through the waters where the fish all yearn
trouble in the valley in the cabins and the trees
Trouble for the children their parents and we
who weep by the willow where the river bends
the valley; where the sky twists and light ends.
Trouble in the valley so safe and snug and clean
It wasn’t built for this, for forests dark and mean

Author/Editor: BW/AW
Copyright: AMW

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