It sits quietly beside the river,
where cattails lean into silence,
and the heron, slow with thought,
lifts its shadow into the sky.
I try to hoist it again—
a knapsack heavy with gold.
It slips through my fingers lightly,
a silk thread unwinding in air—
or finds me, walking in pines,
the scent of sap pulling me,
deeper into the still-green shade,
where the earth hums softly.
I keep looking but never grasp it—
until the wind touches my face,
until a sparrow lands on my hand,
and I remember everything is enough.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: March 12th, 2025 10:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments1
I had to read this twice to grasp it. The it in this poem makes it universal and metaphorical. The setting is magical and most beautiful, so well imaged. The last line is what finishes it so well. Everything is enough. Most lovely
Thanks Soren I appreciate your feedback and I was trying for an upbeat setting
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