Many paths lay under
your blistered feet, each
calling like bearded men
at a Sunday Market.
Some scorch like they're
filled with Sahara's sands,
others are frozen like
an arctic sea, but
they all lead to a destiny
unknown, realizing some
hopes and dreams while
dashing others on its
cormorant guarded cliffs...
choices float by on dandelion
seeds, and you long to be
a prisoner of the wind
no longer responsible
for your own direction...
put out your berry-cane scratched
hands to be soothed
by sweet rain, turning your
eyes inward to reveal
this moments compass.
3 weeks ago
2 comments:
Ah "realizing some
hopes and dreams while
dashing others on its
cormorant guarded cliffs.." Brilliant
Publish while you are young dear. I enjoy reading your work. Bravo!
-Clay
Ditto:) Love this line and image "choices float by on dandelion seeds.."
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