Washed awake, you saw branches
Leaves of another kind, susurrating into pupils—
Growing sleep, a wind cradles your hands,
Palms pushed towards canopy, godless prayer emerging into sky.
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Author:
fkoshk (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2022 09:23
- Comment from author about the poem: You don\\\'t need to be religious to be able to pray, to have an undefinable plea towards an undefinable existence.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 9
Offline)
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