
You’re waiting on the other side,
halfway over the hill,
arms ready for embracing,
lungs swallowing sacred air,
accepting all that’s to be,
EVERYTHING

I’m peeling my eyes open,
floating a drift the clouds
a prismatic, bountiful beauty.
Leaves and blossoms,
keeping my company,
a calm welcoming.
We’re open to anything,
the baby roses sweet scent,
the adults red and pink,
even the thorns,
with their challenging demeanor,
possibly pricking us as we receive them.

We’re meeting under the sky,
where the grass blades swish and sway,
in front of our crumbling wall.





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