The Healer

He is the Healer,

bringer of lotus balm

and silken sleep.

The steady voice

that plunges steel

into scaly-throated

Bayou Demons,

portending calm.

The boundless soul

to whom

can pass all pain

and suffering

by making it

his own.

The spirit who’s

silent love

need never again

be spoken

beyond each cure.

A Love that binds

each reaching hand

to heal the souls

of damaged Angels

drawn to the light

of his embrace.

A Love that is

pure energy

of purpose

until healing

seals the portal

of its care.

A Love that flows

to all who

pour their heart

and drink his words

and feel the zephyr

of each soothing whisper

that breathes

his spirit across

all distances and times

He can fulfill

only others' dreams,

dreams

that never

can be his.

 
For he is nothing

but the wind

blowing in the

lonely vastness

of a mystic sea,

filling torn sails

of passing ships

until they’re gone

where they are bound,

and he is become

the memory

of salty tears

grown sweet upon

each Angel’s face..

He is the Healer,

condemned to wander

this storm-broken,

hungry sea

of shipwrecked souls

who seek the direction

of his journey’s light,

and by their

safe passing

fill his beacon’s fire

with raging emptiness.