spoke to others yesterday about
banning the word coping as a negative
thing, said with sympathy
head to one side.

it feels a frail word and does not apply

My body still carries the home I grew up in
I am still hiding from my father's anger
My mother's disappointment
Drowning them out was easier
When they did not speak with my own voice

Nestled deep within the feel and touch of home
this heart of love goes on a holiday
Like feathered birds in heaven when they roam
all thoughts of you arise, like birds of clay

Nestled deep within the soul I have no choice  
but flap these wings and lead you to my heart
Like  warblers in the sun with trilling voice
all thoughts of you sing sweet, it is an art

Nestled at the font of love the heart's own mind
is like a shelter of collective pasts
Like memories of old that can't go blind
all ardors of the heart seem to outlast

Unblinking as the sun that shines inside my heart
the heart and mind of you and I, will never part.