winter closed a box
containing unfinished toil,
tejuelas,seeds, brightness
musks full of lightness,
soft lleuque, brilliant thread,
nine months under the rain
like a child in the womb waits,
until a splash of spring aroma
sunlight rays bright chroma,
make me reopen the silent top
recalling the never ending juncture
of time and things to be born
16 comentarios:
What a wonderful poem. Thank you for coming and visiting my blog. It has lead me here and gifted me with talented writing. I will be back to read again soon.
Enjoyed this one a lot
This touches my heart. Beautiful. As I read this, I thought of the things that I hold onto and make more important than they really are--only to be startled into a new vision by the world itself. I forget to be humble.
You have me thinking about those things I have put into a box to resurrect, like a time capsule, on a rainy day. Nicely done here.
Very visual. Loved it!
at the junction of mind over body
This was so beautiful! The emotion, the visual imagery...gorgeous. Thank you for sharing your words.
Beautifully written, this one.
Beautiful in any language. Well done my friend.
love. Melanie
Haunting and beautiful!
"...the never-ending juncture of time and things to be done..." -- so true. Some despair over the thought of things to do. I think, however, we should be thankful that there are still things for us to accomplish. For me, it means I am still alive and healthy and useful.
Wonderful thoughts, Sandra. Best regards.
Sounds like hibernation in a way. A long winter's nap.
I could use one of those right now.
Perfect! Absolutely perfect! Each layer is wonderful.
I loved this one; especially the words "winter closed a box
containing unfinished toil," Don't we all have a box like that? Happy Holidays!
lovely ..
What Wondurful poem Your hit the prompt stright on.
love, Melanie
This is sooooooo nice, Sandra. This is a refreshing poem, full of encouragement. Yes, Spring (figuratively) will come and it is worth waiting for.
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