muse
I drift on winds of half-formed
dreams, roaming wild
without reply, until I
feel your gentle tug:
your pen, my oracle,
whispering
from my fingers,
and in your faintest sigh
you capture
life’s small miracles.
In each stroke,
I find my way home.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 4th, 2026 05:39
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
much enjoyed
Thanks my friend 🙏🏻🕊️
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