I found a hole
under the sycamore tree
We used to play when we were kids
The sun was setting
I was finally free.
The wind turned into a soft breeze
The sycamore tree birthed new leaves.
I climbed the trunk and over the hill
I saw birds singing old and sweet melodies
The sun was setting
I was finally free.
From the hole I found
Under the sycamore tree
Was now flowing a lucid stream
And from there flourished-the whitest lilies
Making it plain God paid me a visit
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Author:
Neilton (
Offline) - Published: May 19th, 2025 15:15
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments5
Nostalgic and somewhat mystical it has feelings of loss but also freedom. Nicely written
Yes exactly! Thank you so much for your comment and your interpretation on it!!
it means a lot
Idyllic! Brings me back to that hole and root system that grew over the edge of a stream that we used to swim in, sometimes there are eels there as well.🙏🏻🕊️
Such a beautiful comment!! thank you
Most welcome. It helps when there are relatable links which this poem does! And even without them it stands on its own merits🙏🏻🕊️
A sense of looking back at days gone by, when freedom was found, Nicely expressed and written
Thank you so much for your kindness and support
You are very welcome
the freedom of childhood
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