Wednesday, January 9, 2013

When there is nothing left to squander

 
When all is stripped away.
When there is nothing left to cling to;
to hide behind.
 
When blame like aged mortar crumbles, when
bitterness and anger take wing, 
spewing sullen contrails that swirl away
 into nothing.
 
When you is all you have
and nothing more save shame.
 
 
 Hear the breeze rustling through the sinewy, primeval pine.
See how the sun, ancient and wise begs to warm you;
to free you.
 
Search atop that hill where Love keeps watch,
ever ready to descend,
ever ready to embrace.
 
Inviting you to
dance once more.
 
 
 
 


1 comment:

  1. Pines make me sad and lonely, but to dance with the sun is a dream yet unfulfilled...there is hope that the sun will come out again.

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