"wilderness kills"
They speak again of cool gardens,
of melons split wide,
of leeks softening in a pot
that never hurried.
We hear it,
but the day’s work won’t pause
for old flavours.
The path ahead is dry,
the load uneven,
yet it’s ours to carry.
We steady the camp,
set the pace,
keep the bowls filled—
not with what they crave,
but with what will hold them
through another stretch of light.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 26th, 2026 06:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Mutley Ravishes, Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: 2026.
Offline)
Comments5
Nature day to day the mundane becomes life and life with all its unfairness but wonders and plenty a lovely poem Cryptic
Most definitely so. Thank you, Soren🙏🏻🕊️
You are most welcome
Good write A.
Thanks, O🕊️🙏🏻
arqios, the line “not with what they crave, / but with what will hold them” is the core… it shifts everything from desire to necessity. That distinction carries the whole poem. Well done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Nice! Thanks Tittu🕊️🙏🏻
Not with what they crave, but what will hold them. So much within that line . A lesson for life .
Glad of it, thanks for highlighting that, Kevin 🙏🏻🕊️
May those bowls always be filled with love and peace Rik.
Andy
That’s what bowls should be for!🙏🏻🕊️
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