This Poem Is Spilled Milk

This poem is spilled milk
This poem is forgiveness
This poem is healing.

Sour pools around boots
that tiptoed around secrets
until a blind eye lost its excuse.
This poem is spilled milk.

Sweeping glass until the bleeding stops
gives anger fertile soil in which to root,
but survival plucks hate from its stem.
This poem is forgiveness.

The clock doesn’t own the hours of pain.
There’s no ransom to pay when enough demands freedom.
A spirit flies where tears no longer reign.
This poem is healing.

This poem is a glass now full.
This poem is anger released.
This poem is living without scars.


 ©Susie Clevenger 2015

Comments

Anonymous said…
Acceptance is certainly a way to find healing--you've outlined quite a journey here, Susie--very poignant. Thanks. k.
This is a song at least one for my heart today
Kathryn Dyche said…
The healing stanza definitely touched a chord with me.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
This poem is......FANTASTIC!!!!!!! Brilliantly, written, Susie, and deeply felt.
colleen said…
I love "a blind eye that forgets its excuse."
brudberg said…
I really love how you worked with the repetitive phrase of "this poem .. "
using the spilled milk consistently in your poem makes it even stronger.. I had to check and see that the spilled milk is indeed an idiom in English as well as in Swedish.
Unknown said…
Forgiveness really is something hard to give to another person, but it helps a lot in the healing process.
Marian said…
ahhh, yeah! and now i want you to go on with more stanzas about the glass full and the healing.
To err his human
To forgive is divine
And here lies the answer
In this very simple
Anonymous said…
Hey Susie--I especially like the way the boots tiptoe here. Boots are usually made for walking! Not tiptoeing=so they must be trying pretty darn hard. Thanks for the FB post, and the beautiful picture on the weather report. Glad you are able to get past sour milk--I know I have plenty of difficulty with that! Take care, k.
Kerry O'Connor said…
I love boomerang poems. They allow for such a depth of thought, and really give something positive to the reader.
Margaret said…
"The clock doesn’t own the hours of pain." Indeed, only if we allow it to. Time can be freeing only if we allow it to be.
Magaly Guerrero said…
This poem is a feast of soothing words...