For Piet, January 2013
.
Waking
.
In the shine of sun
a bird hears
what is under the earth
around the pulsing
anchors of trees
.
Upon vines
a spirit is grafted
in wishes of calm
unending growth
.
Through light and shadow
lifted
as if waking from a dream
certain you can fly
poignant write, thank you
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beautiful, melissa. i’m so sorry to hear about your loss.
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There’s a very quiet power to this poem . . . and you really do capture with such poignancy the interplay of light and shadow, and what emerges within us when something/someone is gone.
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