Calling

My heart calls out,
ringing out like a gun shot in the night,
reaching around like branches to a tree.
Searching for meaning.
Searching for a place to call home.
A graceful hearth.
A place where it is free, free to express it's emotion.
A sanctuary of love.
My heart rests in the dark, awaiting the light.
The light that carries a smile.
A graceful smile with soft lips.
Lips that kiss away the dark, the lips of an angel.
For now my heart waits, waits for the lips to come it's way.
A hand to hold it, to guide it though the dark.
For now my heart fights by itself,
fighting off dark essences.
Creating a pathway, a pathway of tranquility,
opening the way for the angels lips,
the way for my heart to be discovered.
My heart is strong,
for if the light does not show, my heart will still survive.
Survive to live another day of hope.
Hope for the day its savior will come.
The day that the dark will be defeated,
conquered by the light, the light from Heaven.

My son wrote this and I like it. He's 17 and has gone through much of what the average teenager experiences. Love has found him and love has snuck away in the dark, leaving him questioning everything. He is strong yet quiet, smart with his dad's sense of humor, alone yet surrounded. Last year he scaled a wall that no one of his years should have had to climb. Yet he did it with courage, maturity and grace. I am proud of who he is and the man he's becoming.