in things that drop from the sky
are tears that drip from my eyes
and dapples of sunlight and moonshine
feathering tired heartstrings of mine
in things that rise from the earth
burst flowers singing rebirth
alongside pungent eau de decay
fermenting, overwrought, from dismay
in things that rides on the waves
soars hope that my soul saves
scouring away, with salted tenacity
shame swamp that buried me
Arisen from the Conflagraton 
So beautiful. The hope lines rule each stanza. May they overcome!
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Thank you! That’s the hope, so to speak
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That is my hope. 🙂
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Aren’t you sweet 🙂
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I might be. Depends on who you ask, I’d imagine.
But yeah, I kind of am. 🙂
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LOL. Apparently I asked you 🙂
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I’m too modest to say how unbelievably sweet I am. Humble.
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Very proud of that humility I see
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No, you don’t understand… I USED to be proud, but now I’m one of the most humble people ever.
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Would a truly humble person argue their humility?
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I am not sure. I dislike proving how right I am in public, so I never argue about it.
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Now all the sudden I’m trying to picture a cup of coffee with a slightly satisfied smile
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