"Where The Light Gets In...."
Don’t you dare go feeling sorry for yourself
You’re not the only one
Don’t beat yourself up for all the things
You might or might not have done
Count your blessings one more time
then scratch them down in ink
and read them again when the hollow comes
when the sun can’t help but sink
the fog will clear and you’ll be brave
and face new skies of blue
Plant a rose among the thorns
Of dreams that will never come true
Handful of soil & a seed of faith
Give hope a chance to root
At the break of dawn you’ll see it there
The miracle of the bloom
Your heart cracks wide like an old clay pot
The price of Love, my friend
Take heart, I say, for the beautiful cracks
Are where the light gets in
February 24, 2019
Willow & Maple, Elm & Oak
hurl frozen javelins against glass & tin.
In mad synchronicity,
their flailing limbs rise in defense
against the mournful wind
tattering the eclipsing midday fog
the shattering sound alarming every Living Thing
as they rail on that the Sun has forsaken them.
‘She is coming back’, Hope whispers to none of them in particular.