Uninspiration Dryness of my soul Seeps downwards Deep within, then Gently tapping upon My roof, winter rain. Roots healed and Life returns. Advertisements
It is not yet dawn Life begins manic stirrings Night’s calm succumbing
Fighting this illness Wheezing more than I can stand Rainfall comforts me
Distraction, empty; “Now”, the moment powerful. Rain flows from branches
Originally posted on Phoebe, MD: Medicine & Poetry:
Your love, fragrant as ointment poured forth, awakens me. I run to you. • “Draw me, we will run after thee.” -Song of Songs 1:4
False power calling The allure of fear and rage. Hope always triumphs.
Brutality free, Humanity unbounded Potential released
Deeply frustrating My autocorrect errors Failure of my eyes
Now I’ve become lost Aimlessly within my dreams Nightly quietude
My values are deep A key: generosity. But would they hold true?