With each step
we write our lives
with quills dipped in rainwater
for as soon as it is written
it fades under the glare of happiness
or is washed away by storms of solitude
The mere act of dipping
is enough to send ripples along to the roots of Gaia’s smile
where she drinks in the questions of us mortal masterpieces
for as soon as it is written
our souls, our spirits, our hearts and our minds become
lost in the frustrations of being unable to comprehend
the reasons why we are given such beauty
only for it to be washed away
The act of being kind to the rains as they fall
brings its own rewards
for when we write our lives
with quills of love
we shall be given
in return
the truth of how to live in the now moments
of how to flow over storm-crusted stepping stones of haste
and of how to write with rainwater
and know there are no answers except for those we create
When we write with rainwater
the sun shines
and the storms rage
as we breathe
know and feel
the beauty of existence
~
Another poem from before that seems to resonate with the way things are going nowadays.
From 2017 published in After the Rain.
Beautiful, Martin. Stay safe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Francina and you stay safe too.
LikeLike
Stay safe 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank, Willow. You too! 🙂
LikeLike
💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Keep safe 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person