POEM FOR PRISCILLA

C. LEIGH MCGINLEY

I touch your hand and blind eyes light up
Through the haze of non-memory,
A misty recollection of a gentle touch,
Once long ago when you were loved.
No longer with the means to give love,
No longer aware enough to receive it,
But somewhere through the fog of being
You remember a touch, and it carries you,
Carries you home to love, to remembering,
Lithe, whole, and young again,
Healed through the veil of my tears.

© 2006, by C. Leigh McGinley

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A SHADOW AT THE DOOR
TRACY MARTZALL

I met my shadow at the door-
Intrusive, it seems certain of it's welcome,
It smiles as it shoulders past me.
Silent, it watches me from across the room,
Eyes reflecting sadness and regret.
Finally, it speaks as it holds out it's hand,
It moves bonelessly toward me.
COME, and the shadow grows,
Enveloping the room and taking me with it.

Spinning, I feel it's arms embrace me,
A lifetime's past rushing into my mind like a flood.Horrified, I watch as a mirror spins out of the darkness,
Reflecting every mistake, every destructive act, every hateful thought.
Shuddering, I try to turn away and feel the shadow hold me tighter,
I fight to regain my freedom.
Breathless, the scream begins to bubble in my throat,
But I begin to realize that these memories form the shadow's heart.

Belatedly, the compassion rises within me,
And I move to return the shadow's embrace.
Sobbing, the shadow lays it's head upon my shoulder-
As I stroke the hair so like mine it begins to tremble.
Surprised, I find myself holding a confused child that was once myself,
Burrowing into my arms like she would never let go.
Lovingly, I press my lips to her forehead,
And the shadow collapses into me, absorbed by my heart like a well- aimed arrow.
She is home and I am whole; we take flight together.