Be still
As mother's waters trace
The shape of her
Awaits embrace
The cacophony rises
The river drums
The world falls silent
As nature hums
Sweet melody
Her body rooted
She starts to dance
Her soul set free
In burbling trance
Tricklets and floods gather now
Grasping at traces of being
Washing them deep down stream
Promised Land awaits the Seeing
Feeling lighter
She walks away
Dripping her dreams
She cannot stay
The drops feed the grassy floor
Until the day she returns for more
-
Author:
sylviasearcher (
Offline) - Published: August 17th, 2018 05:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 97
Offline)
Comments3
It reads so well for me - great meter.
Ahhh you had the edited version. I had played around with it since I first posted it.
Thanks Michael. 🖐😉
Very good write.
Thanks. 😊
Wow
Really like this one
That last stanza very Whitman-ish
Transcendental. Captivating
4
Thanks. All these people... must be chanelling themselves lol
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