In deep despair I felt that I was stuck
Paralysed by  grief and guilt I failed.

I had no right defence against attack

From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black
My  life, my engine ,juddered off the  rails
I hated God and of “his” Church was  sick

Hungry, weak, alone I was in shock
The death of one I loved   had made me frail

The savage pain of grief turns flesh to brick

I felt  Love’s arms around me, death was blocked
I knew   this goodness,  why else would I wail?
I   thought I hated God  but Love had struck

Warm and golden light  that  did me hold

I’ve  told my story here,, it’s not been sold
Kind despair  that  made me long time  sit

The living heart knows  more than do the wits.

Note sometimes when we are fortunate writing a poem can be a communication with a part of us that we are not normally in touch with consciously. So the line about kind despair was a gift to me because I had not sorted in that way before but in fact it was patience and waiting that brough peace tp my mind and heart.

I think this can happen even if the poem is not a great poem that literary standards but it helps us to get to know the world and our deeper selves. That’s why it’s worth doing it

Dreams ar also away to this kind of learning

If we can remember them