what is it of the summer rains
that prelude a pensive dream of thee in more golden frames of twilight setting sunshine days when storm clouds are but memory?
It is I sense
the thankfulness that all is but passing, impermanent fragility, and we shall one day hold the golden eves of our last hours in fingers locked eternally.
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May 29, 2022 1 Comment
this breath is mine for just a while
but what comes of its breathing surrounding us in the sorrowed sighs of lives which pass us fleeting.
each holds within impermanence
the light hopes of the brighter dawn that despite all, benevolence will counter darkness ‘fore the morn.
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April 15, 2022
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we walked among the broken limbs
of lifeless victims to the storms ripped raw and torn up from within lost now to days of springs reborn yet in one shattered bough I thought a hope half hidden did I spy no sooner than my eyes had caught it did this hope take wing and fly.
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February 21, 2022
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after the snowfall
a last rosebud is revealed hope is painted red
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December 5, 2021 1 Comment
and should the night in black dismay
retreat from thee thy dreams
even the deepest dark gives way
to new hope upon dawn’s beams.
on a subway wall
almost too small to make out he wrote the word “hope”