Warm Yourself in My Eyes

May I sit awhile and warm my soul in your eyes? Eyes

crackling and popping with stories stirred by

my need for hope. Hope boasting

of losses gained and tragic victories;

Of dreams, love and faith.

Faith refusing to be dampened by despair, quiet

constant discipline battling the reality of death.

Death is in your eyes. Eyes raised from

grave circumstances. Circumstances

are snuffing out my flame! Flame now fanned

by the passionate compassion of your hope. Hope

fueling my soul with logs of endurance, sparking

life in my dimmed eyes. Eyes that others ask to sit awhile

and warm their cold souls with the fire of my hope.

Published by

bkmoore

I lost my son to suicide. Each day since, I commit my day to turning the page and continuing to write my story. There is no deeper grief, but I know too, that there is no greater hope than bringing life out of death. I offer each page to you as a testimony that there is hope for abundant life!

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