In those early morning hours

when all appears lost,

when the heart is broken into a million pieces,

when despair reaches its fingers into the corner of my mind

and threatens to pull me into a pit of no return,

I call upon Higher Intelligence--

give me patience,

give me courage,

give me wisdom.

With this simple plea,

the heart gathers its scattered remnants of sorrow,

the mind lets go of its fear-filled thoughts,

breath returns like a river of strength--

all is well, all is well, all is infinitely well.


◄ A Hardy Conversation

Wrapped in Golden Ribbon ►


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Grace Meadows

Mon 15th May 2023 20:37

I wholeheartedly agree with Keith and John, thank you Helene.

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John Botterill

Sun 14th May 2023 10:19

This could be used a mantra for mindfulness, Helene. Stunning!
'The heart gathers it's scattered remnants of sorrow '

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keith jeffries

Sat 13th May 2023 11:32

A very well crafted poem which accurately describes those dark hours which cast a shadow on our souls.
Thank you for this

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