Here is a space where the sad breeze stops

earlier than the breath begins.

And here the peace rests thick and smooth

and here the calm drifts to soothe

and here the self-talk does not move

to pound the beat of a painful song.

We’ll stay here between this breath and that

where the peace rests deep and silken,

leave the room where crippling sorrows brood

and dream a dream of a kinder, tender mood,

out of the black dog’s teeth, chewed

but in the place where the sad breeze stops.

Let us dream a dream that’s kind and tender

here where self-talk does not move

safe from the black dog’s teeth

and where the sad breeze stops.

Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved

Independent content creator, ghostwriter, author mental health advocate, and poet.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store