It wasn’t her mess.
She never asked
to be buried alive.
She didn’t even own a shovel.
But her desire to see sunlight
grew strong,
flexed hope like muscles
rippling, horses straining
at the foreign taste of metal
on tender tongues
with dreams of churning hooves,
tasting island sun
like Freedom
coursing through wild veins.
She dug
until bare fingers
left rivulets of red
on bunkers of blue steel.
She dug
until she ached with cold,
fatigue festering like ulcers,
disillusionment stalking
in blizzard’s cloak.
She digs still –
for, having seen a glimpse
of sapphire sky,
her soul will not
consent to being
buried.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Determination!
Absolutely! Who wants to live in a dark cold hole, if she can help it? 😉
Sometimes a dark cold hole is comforting. I love your work.
Thanks Shelli. I appreciate that….
A long time ago, God put a choice before me … a shovel or a suitcase. I found that shoveling is very hard, but also that it eventually will bring light 🙂
It’s actually a privilege to participate in the freeing process – what little we can do seems to work some amazing things within us as we see God at work in our troubles.
Digging for the light – not for the faint of heart or the claustrophobic.
You called it.
As long as the will is there, the human heart will always seek and find the light. Yes?
I hope so. So – yes. 😉
😀
powerful images and even more powerful message – great work, Melody!
Thanks Pam!
I like this very much.
Thank you Elena! 🙂