Rion's Reflections
These Words from the Heart are a
Collection of Life Thoughts and Healing Words
by Brenda "Rion" Sewell
Life Can Be Dark.

These words come from my heart ...

Questions and Realizations
In the Recesses
Healing Hands
The Fifteenth Floor
The Flood
Tornado Recovery
For Cynthia.
Why Don't They See?
Searching for Myself
Who Am I?

Questions and Realizations

I sat and watched the people walk
around and around the city lake
filling the sidewalk with their strollers
their skates and dogs, and I wondered
Where did they all come from?

I watched the women in their business suits
high heel shoes exchanged for tennis shoes
walking quickly with each other
laughing, talking, sweating and I wondered
Where do they get their energy?

Young men running in too tight shorts
other men watching them run in the sun
looking like men at a cattle auction
looking to buy the best, and I wondered
Will they get what they want?

The old woman alone on the bench
feeding stale white bread to the pigeons
walking spread out like a fan at her feet
fighting for the flying crumbs, and I wondered
Are these her only friends?

Sitting back on the bench I closed my eyes
and felt the noon-time sun warm on my face
feeling the unwanted tingles in my skin
as the lupus reared its ugly head and I wondered
Why is there such a thing as lupus?

I miss walking in the sun and sitting by the lake
and I realized if I had not developed
this horrid disease, I would not have become
aware of the treasures of life and I wondered,
Did I get sick to make me see I took life for granted?

© January 2001 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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I am waiting
listening for a word
that will give me a clue
on how to find the way to
a door that will open
a mind that is closed with pain.

I am waiting
anticipating touch
that will bring me
back from oblivion
allowing me to feel
the quiet joy of life again.

I am waiting
for soft spoken words
of a lover who comes
with healing and care
to place the pieces of
my mind back in place.

I am waiting ..
how much longer must I wait?

© February 2000 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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In the Recesses
Like music in the air, I listen
to the sounds of the morning
of the trickling of water from a nearby stream,
to the whistling notes of birds on high.

Walking amongst the trees,
trailing my hands across the tops
of grasses wet with the dew of the early morning
soft to the touch and smelling sweet and fresh.

My heart is heavy with thoughts
of darkness and cruelty wrought on me
in a time so long ago .. thoughts that refuse to leave
the confines of my troubled mind.

Standing still in the warmth of the sun,
I allow my body to succumb to the heat
of the morning .. it’s rays warm upon my skin
bringing light into the recesses of my thoughts.

Slowly tears slide down my cheeks
as I search for a quietness of spirit
a stillness of soul in the haven of my heart
in the tranquil dawning of the sun.

© January 2000 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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Healing Hands

Curling inward upon herself
keeping the remnants of her mind
in bottles with small white pills
holding together the vestiges of a life
that is spinning ever faster out of control.

Grasping tight to the coat-tail of reality
flying across expanses of time
back to an age of horror and pain
forward again in ever changing circles
spinning inward to a center ebbing in life.

Reaching out with a fevered hand
she calls for help from a loving clan
who grab hold and pull her from the abyss
of a darkness that drags her down
destroying the spirit she holds in her heart.

Holding tight to the outstretched hands
finding many who would help her to heal
crying soft tears of gratitude
for the outpouring of love that amends
the horrors of a lifetime’s past memories.

© December 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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The Fifteenth Floor

Standing at the top of the stair, she waits,
leaning on the smooth wooden banister.
Looking dizzily at the spiral staircase,
she stares down below to a stark tiled floor.

Around and around, stairs flowing like a river
running down into the ground fifteen floors below.
The stairs seem to never end as they descend
sliding into a nothingness in the dim light below.

Then a subtle scraping of a key in the lock
and the outer door opens with a familiar creak.
A clearing of the throat announces his presence
before his harsh voice of reality calls out her name.

Running footsteps ring out on the cold tile floor
as the voice angrily calls out her name .. ROSE!
She smiles and waits till she sees his shadow
darkening the little bit of light on the landings.

Faster he comes on the ascending stair,
and as she hears the nearing footsteps,
she stands on the bannister and calling his name,
she plummets to the floor below,
                            finally free from his abuse.

© June 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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The Flood
    Ominous and foreboding thunder
    crashes down upon mountains of purple splendor,
    as powerful winds howl through the trees
    like a pack of raging hounds
    plowing through the underbrush
    and disturbing the silence of deep forest glens.

    Ripping and tearing the leaves
    from helpless saplings and ancient trees,
    the wind strips the greenery from flailing limbs
    as it drowns the new born buds,
    and brings destruction to the forest dwellers
    as it pillages the land.

    Torrential flooding rains follow close
    on the heels of the savage wind
    bringing a deluge of mud-filled water
    to overflow banks of clay and reed,
    quenching the thirst of  parched grasses
    as it carries away the dormant seeds.

    Standing alone in the wind and the rain,
    his hair plastered against his upturned face,
    the angry man raises a fist to the sky
    and shouts to the heavens in passionate wrath
    and weeps as he watches his life’s work
    being destroyed by the devastating flood.

© May 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell
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Deputy Mark Taylor, Brenda Sewell (that's me in orange) and my dog Gideon
doing water recovery work after a tornado went through Sanford, Florida

Tornado Recovery

Gathering their troops of dog and mankind,
the commanders convene to aid and assist
those whose lives have been torn and ruined,
by a tornado that did turn and twist.

The volunteers came to comfort and aid
the walking wounded as in shock they stood,
tears on their cheeks joining droplets of rain,
that still poured on their neighborhood.

A dog with trained skills, his nose to the ground,
diligently searches the mounds of debris
in hope that the victims that are hidden from view
will soon join their families.

The dog perseveres and traverses the mounds
his cries of excitement and glee
alert the handler to a possible find
putting an end to one family’s tragedy.

© April 1998 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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For Cynthia
How do you put into a few short words
the memories gathered for years?
How do you choose from all of the moments of
shared hopes, and laughter, and tears?

Memories of a lifetime ... cherished and treasured
folded and held close to hand.
They are all I have left to honor her
for she has gone to Our Father’s land.

How brief the interval spent here on earth
to be shared before time to depart.
Treasured and shared, secrets and hopes
are gathered and stored in my heart.

A blessed day to take her, my Lord
dawning soft and clear and bright
giving her rest from all suffering and pain
so welcome her into Your Light.

© March 1998 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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Why Don’t They See?
Wandering thoughts ... meandering through
a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds
embroiled together to form horrible memories
from the distant past and from near time too.

Hearing those thoughts as they try to escape
crying out against walls that hold them inside,
prisoners of a mind unstable .. unable to tell
one thought from the next .. altogether confused.

Sometimes my mind feels like I am watching a play,
and I wonder why are they acting that way?
Then I realize I am watching myself .. and wondering ..
what the heck did I do that for .. and there is no answer.

I am viewing the world from behind smoky glass
and no one knows I am there ... watching ... pondering.
Why can’t they see the truth that is me and me alone?
Am I so invisible to the meandering world?

© February 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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Searching  for Myself

Standing .. waiting .. wanting
waiting for dreams that slip away with the night.
Wishing .. holding onto reality .. watching ..
your life run off into the light of the morning sun.

Seeing glimpses of life .. things that I want.
People I want to see .. the pain that they have
that matches mine .. and I don’t know what to do.
I see the frailties of my life and want to let them go.

How can I be alone in a house full of people ?
I don’t want to be alone, to feel the emptiness
and yet I cannot make them understand
the pains .. the hurts that I feel .. I hate who I have become.

I am searching for the child I used to be.
I don’t want to be this person I have become.
So I search and in beginning to search for myself again,
I flail hopelessly, trying to change the ending of my life.

© April 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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Who Am I?

Who am I?  I asked myself ..
and waited patiently for an answer.
I searched my heart and then my mind
for a truth that I could grasp.

Who am I?  I asked again ..
but no one answered my urgent plea.
Many faces I show the world
and hide behind each one.

Who am I?  I asked each face ..
hoping to find my true destiny.
Not one could tell me who I was
so still I wander .. lost.

© September 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

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All literary works and original artwork by Rion on this page,
unless otherwise noted, are the sole property of Brenda Sewell.
I do not mind sharing but please ask me first.

© 1998 - 2004 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

Email me at brendarion at

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