Wandering

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In this sanctuary here

I wander, take quiet breaths

as squirrels rustle

in harmony with wind and water,

and if I feel the storm coming—

 

~there’s a soft shine in the distance~

 

as we stroll, night lights

in a world of when, its own poetry

where spirits watch over us

in the cold night

and if they feel the storm coming—

 

still, there the light shines soft in the distance.

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I collaborated with the Oracle for this variation on a Puente. (Yes, that’s what I’m going to call it.)  I was thinking of taking a walk in the park this moring, but the rain is pounding on my windows right now.

 

 

 

23 thoughts on “Wandering

  1. This is quietly beautiful, especially the end, a Yeatsian line if ever.
    Our poems are similar in their theme, I think, both have the storm coming, and yours ends in the soft haven of light, mine in the bright light of spring.

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