Crumbs thrown at a distance,
constant lacking and not
being fed adequately.
Nurture and care missing, presumed dead.
Lying, pulse racing, on a bed
that may have been snow-covered
down.
Calming, restorative and held by handover.
Responsibility curtailed,
peace but shaking.
Time out in a safety microcosm,
the conceptual white: out of chaos and into light.
Integration of a splintered mind,
slowly, softly, grasped and taken,
gently brought back from the
underbelly of the brain.
Not a foot wrong,
Not a syllable misplaced,
sledgehammer anaesthetises
but cradling of the delicate a feat of undertaking.
Sensitivity and cocoa,
warmth and laughter,
back to the land of the earth;
dropped from the sky.
Wings and security,
angel in the haze of people,
beacon flashing amid lost souls
and aching brains.
Fractures healing,
time and time again,
brought into the mould
and sent into a lighter world.
Thank you, Mike, for everything.
by Julia