
Cordelia came in her Goddess gown, wild spring flowers in her hair.
She soothed my heart till I could lift my head high: pieces of me reflect back in her eyes.
I sobbed.
I let her see my broken vase and she caressed my skin like a lover.
My vase of cracks and fine lines filled—
The motherless child and I.

© Copyright 2022, Poetry Out West, Jodine Derena Butler. All rights reserved
When we feel as orphans, the spirits of Nature or the ancient goddess of water in the fountain, in lake, in rivers, all of them seem to want to protect us.. Our parents from the woods.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is so true and what’s been happening for me! You are in tune x
LikeLike
Beautiful artwork and prose. I really enjoyed it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thankyou 💚
LikeLiked by 3 people