Photo by Adem Percem on Unsplash
his lightness of being,
unbearably weighted,
anchored to fear &
tethered to pain,
cast upon him by demons,
desperate to gain
reprieve from their own
lives so mundane.
her being of lightness
whispered softly to he,
“take my hand, follow me.”
the shadows resisted,
screaming silently,
but deep down he knew
she would set him free.
About the Creator
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Tree Stump
sad stump of a tree once a carrotwood stood there I still remember. I go neighborhood walk daily and greet the trees. I feel sad if any of them fell down or was chopped down. I think, as they give us air, shade and a lot of other necessities, we need to honor them.
By Seema Patel3 days ago in Poets
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