Let’s move. Or let’s sit still.
Let’s hurry. Or take it slow.
Let’s rush like there is no tomorrow, fumbling, rustling, stilling.
Let’s give and take both.
Let’s feed. Let’s search. Let’s flow to the deepest of sources.
Let’s be, without doubt or choice.
Let’s create.
Let’s wait for the visitors of our shores.
2 comments:
That is a gorgeous Peony photo and your poem is still and lovely with just a quirk!!! You're a poet and you know it, don't blow it.
Who can believe that Peony grew in our backyard?
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