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
So beautiful. The hope lines rule each stanza. May they overcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! That’s the hope, so to speak
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is my hope. ๐
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aren’t you sweet ๐
LikeLiked by 1 person
I might be. Depends on who you ask, I’d imagine.
But yeah, I kind of am. ๐
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL. Apparently I asked you ๐
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m too modest to say how unbelievably sweet I am. Humble.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very proud of that humility I see
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, you don’t understand… I USED to be proud, but now I’m one of the most humble people ever.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Would a truly humble person argue their humility?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am not sure. I dislike proving how right I am in public, so I never argue about it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now all the sudden I’m trying to picture a cup of coffee with a slightly satisfied smile
LikeLiked by 1 person
LikeLike