winds beckoned
me to follow,
like a summons
for a life lived,
questioning why
and what for
as the coin slips
to the fountain,
a small price
for hope
against the dark
where memories
haunt the
believer to
unfold the seasons
watered with
the wealth of
breaking ground,
breaking hearts,
crying and growing
and harvests
yet to come
Comments1
we must believe in ourselves
even if failure is what's seemingly awaiting
around every corner of our toiling,
because only by Following our instincts
and striving
for what we can't explain clearly
or word poetically eloquent,
do we get to experience
the many rewarding surprises of life,
(a really empowering message
worded so accessibly relatable
thank you for sharing)
Thank you for your kind words and support
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.