We hunker down and shudder
at how pale the dawn appears
as it leaves the city of evening behind;
we were not looking, so could not find
any reason there for all these tears.
All of the sadness worn here,
thin overcoats against hurricanes
to protect our shoulders from the storm,
fail to leave us feeling warm;
unhappiness remains.
We hold our voices back from cheering,
afraid of being proven fools,
left blind within the heart’s surround,
music playing that makes no sound.
What’s not been lost cannot be found,
dawn plays by these rules.
But in among the foolish people
a spark glows every now and then;
a soul that reaches can be touched,
a heart that listens, just that much,
a dawn that does remember when.
We held our spirit up before that wind
to let cobwebs be blown away,
to dance for some undetermined while;
like an unexplained but honest smile,
one dawn before a brighter day.
-
Author:
Dan Williams (
Offline) - Published: August 12th, 2024 00:41
- Comment from author about the poem: Another one plucked from an old wandering mind.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments4
This could be a song it's beautiful. 🌹
I would love to make it a song but lack the skills. Thank you.
I was intrigued by the rhyme scheme that allows you to draw out the thought. Some wonderful lines here "thin overcoats against hurricanes" "What's not been lost can not be found" Very nice
I count on folks being as perceptive as you when I am writing these things, often that is not the case. I wonder do you, as I do, throw away more than you keep? Thanks anyway.
Lovely words in this .. nice to read )
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