​In my loss of power my heart and soul ran to evacuate, 
taking a trip through the darkness, as my eye’s cautiously, roamed, 


to dilate. 

I found a clock that was set, 

20 years before, 

holding my quarter hostage, opening a realm, 

of my life that was stored. 

I was beckoned to look closely at my hidden, 20’s fast, 

catching my breath, 

for they were internally buried,

deep under my past.

A shovel glowed of all my indecisive decisions,

chronologically colored, 

by first to last, edition. 

My heart returned, tapping into my soul’s light source, 

beating with conviction toward its benevolent force.
A fast forward through youth, took back variable proof, that my heart remained 25, 


shielded by wars, 


in its own glory, 

to thrive.

As the past showed the heart, 

black’s out, 

a personal generator protected from  pain.

For the recycled surge it feels in love, 

is solar powered, 

with a renewal, 

inevitably hard too explain.

POETRY BY Tamara Dorsey-Moore 
Thinker on the Loose 

Copyright  (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended.