Spilling moonlight
from her pockets
— like pebbles
&
petals
&
peace —
she lays
a silvered path
for all
to follow…
And yet
we
h
e
s
i
t
a
t
e
.
.
.
— C.Birde, 3/19
Moonlight — An Image
Spilling moonlight
from her pockets
— like pebbles
&
petals
&
peace —
she lays
a silvered path
for all
to follow…
And yet
we
h
e
s
i
t
a
t
e
.
.
.
— C.Birde, 3/19
3 Comments
paths start in the pockets, go through blooming garden and rest in the peaceful mind. Can’t we not follow?
We must turn inward and investigate why we are so reluctant… 🙂
green grass under poet’s feet, that poet who as usual wore blue, velvet coat, could think : I’m probably too soft, too fragile and too skeptical for this, then when I’m growing … doing that sometime reluctant with trace of shame