• Healing and Hauling PTSD •
If I don’t stir the memories of fire,
Having first fully-faced the language of understanding minds,
My spirit, some would think, most probably had been fully shocked.
I am left with but embers remaining
Which, albeit glowing, are kept inert.
Thoughts, surreptitiously arriving – triggered as such –
But hardly ever these days.
What once before, those embers when stoked, meant conflagration –
I choose now, and will not give oxygen to any fraught memories
That might disturb
Where I rest now –
In cooler soil of a resolved spirit.
And my spirit’s seeds once known, before war, are now again
Finding rebirth and renaissance in soil of my choosing –
Within my following trailer of composted and healing memories,
Now the nurturing
Of my soul.