Skies weave lights
waiting for stormy moments,
connecting color across the trees
and leaving me to wonder.
What pushes the balance
locked between two places
riding the line to find
solace in the coming times.
Frenzied minutes pass from dark to light
and I stand beneath the maelstrom
waiting for the passing of the rain,
drip drip against my forehead
as I stare at the beyond and wonder,
will this cleansing change the world?
Hopelessly hopeful
each new day that finds me stirring
my words like broth in a cup,
I sip on the tepid brew
and wish for ice chips to cool the soul.
Rainbows and wonder once stole my heart
and now these days they’re far and few,
but I stand still and wait
anticipating the greater things
at the end of the road.
The one thing I adore about where I live is the skies that come so alive during storms. Occasionally I glimpse a rainbow, and for that, I am grateful.
Thank you Eliza, popping in when I can and I missed the place so much.🌺
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Hey, Kim! Nice to see you here!
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The words are flowing and I am so happy to see you again, too💕
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A most wonderful poem. You express so well how I experience this strange, out of season time. Thank you.
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