Nancy Vorkink

Exhale!

We go dark and deep together
To a place of healing and together
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All in the Mind
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The bristle and the bark
Scared us children
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The attack aged us instantly
Like mideastern humus.
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My memories are clear as the bluest sky.
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Today a candle is lit
For a resolution
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I yearn to walk the labyrinth again.
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I never thought it would come to this.
That he wasn’t there for me,
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For the first time
I sense anxiety for you and
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Before the war in Liberia, my parents, though subsistence farmers, lived happily in their village. They both spoke only Kissi and Liberian English. In fact, they continued their farm work during the first few years of the crisis, even in the midst of Charles Taylor's rebels, but not without their own stories of the war.
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When old ghosts appear in new costume
When the tree falls on my head
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First snow coming, and our bags unpacked. Quick shifts with too much luggage in the cab, and off we go. Foothills rise to meet us. As the rain fell, soon Highway 6 snakes to our adobe inn. We know the check-in people and they take our bags to the Navajo Room.
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Daniel calls.
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A year-end retreat
Into clear high country air
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Unusual rain clears the morning
Sweet, innocent earth can breathe
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As I stood before you
With my written text
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Sometimes it is better
To stare love’s bite
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