Like a rusty hingethe news these days grates.It needs an oil of acceptancemixed with an ounce of heartseeing possibilitiesinstead…
Careful parts, your selfMade from colour, vigour
Do dreams call us to actionor are they mere fantasies to entertain?You choose.
A breezegrass under feettrees in their majestyLove of a deeper kind
You came not as a sunburstbut rather an inevitable sunriseslowly penetrating my world
…………………………….
Heart, can you hear me?