— a poem of potpourris.

Still Beings

We’ll be each other’s solace. Come rest your head still.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

In the seas of meadow
underneath the crescent moon
where the stars prance like salt,

surrounded by paper papillons
of every written Eurekas
pirouetting to the rhythm of the wind;
only for our viewing.

We’ll waltz along
to the full extent of our content
until our weary eyes drove
our heavy heads to rest;

Hand in hand, in the meadow field.
Along with the moon, stars, and
papillon chanting soothing mantras
I’ll let you have
the entirety of my being.

Come and rest with me.