Sleeping Angel
she woke
time was a swirling vortex
from which she was removed
she hurt, every fiber
but she was clean and dry
and warm
wings, bound for so long
hung limp around her
but beyond her control
deep in the wood
the mist thick and still
protecting her senses
a cocoon
limiting sight
dampening sound
the dense bough on which she lay
was soft and thick
the gentle aroma of
pine, sweet sage and earth
comforted and healed her
thoughts began to drift
through her ravaged mind
who had brought her
back from the edge
how had the healing begun
finding more questions than answers
she pushed it away
and slept
to follow her story, read first angel, then frozen
i truly do not know,
from one day to the next,
what will become of her.
i just wait for the morning light…jorc