Love
Like the greensilver branches of the willow tree
That always grew where the water pulsed through the soft earth
Branches shading the wetland grass in lines like windowshades
Drinking in the sunlight of a little girl's laugh
Taking in the breath that only comes from song
And when the hurricane comes and winds grow strong
Roots are stronger,
Sylvan fingers reach into the depths of Life itself
Holding onto all that Love is
Because storms may tear the branches that stretch
And the trunk that winds
But trees can grow back after the storm
With the right roots
Goodbye, August
2 months ago
1 comment:
I like that. I like the thought at the end.
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