Diana's Lamp

A poem that describes the journey of release and healing through writing.

I came upon a friend one day,

She baked me bread and tied my shoes.

My hair was soaked, my hands were cold-

She brought me in, and wiped my eyes.

Diana loved me, flaws and all,

She said, "Rest here, for now you are home."

A home she gave me, though my days felt heavy.

Then a fortune teller wandered by,

His eyes, they gleamed with ancient light.

"Wait, sister," he said, "Hear your heart,

Bear it well, for the time is right."

The sane and insane, his song did sing,

Whispers of olden truths he brought.

The fortune teller:

"In the forest, there's a mirror,

It reflects the moonlight at sunset.

Down the path, it waits-

Turning misfortune into gold."

The mirror:

"Go on, lady, let fear fall,

Cry on paper, and free your soul.

A friend of gold walks with you,

Your haunted days are done."

I traveled the world, and returned once more,

I lost my mind, but healed at last.

"Stay," she said, "I'll always wait."

Diana sat by the lamp as I took my pen,

And my teary words raced across the page.

She handed me tissues, laughed with love.

Diana:

"Cry on paper, sister! Cry on paper."

And so I did.

                                   Landra.G.Mutoni.