It’s the things that aren’t said that hurt the most.
I can hear the tower clock chime from my pillow
It is the only constant I hear.
But even this clock;
I envy the care and attention
it receives for its restoration.
I hope to have its constancy at heart.
‘O Holy Spirit, as the sun is full of light, the ocean full of water,
Heaven full of glory, so may my heart be full of thee.’
– The Valley of Vision
Every time I see you I can feel my heart…
Walked to the top of the bridge
Held all the things you said
Cast off over the edge
Whipped by the wind and the current
Drowned out on the sea bed
Never again to evoke a frown
Stepped down from the ledge
Over the bridge
Stand on new ground
Warm air surrounds
The happiest place to be
Under soles of feet
Some stories better left untold
Others build us prison walls
but when uttered they dissolve
unchained altar call
Like a caged bird flapping
Decides to sing its heart song
then gentle hands set free.
Poem inspired by:
Prison Fellowship of Australia – Art from Inside Project