All around town,
balconies drip plant pot water
into the street –
forming puddles where,
we have had no rain.
I get caught on the head:
a blessing from the sky.
Which helps me later,
when I am blessed again:
only this time my benefactor can fly.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
If this poem has stirred things up for you or made you realise there are things in your life you would like to resolve, please feel free to visit my contact page or email me me to discuss both these things and the possibility of our working together in the future to accomplish these things.
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To be healed is having an awareness that you were never broken
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