Something inside Myself, Singing (a poem)

light spreads,
like seeping tea—
this steady thrum a
bankless river, the
leaven of your smile
lifts to the cerulean
sky—a temple of
drifting clouds
the lid of time
sprung, buttery
fingers of crocuses
strum their vernal song
there is yet room inside
of me for you.

~inspired by this poem from Mary Oliver.

Comments

  1. Kelly Hausknecht Chripczuk says

    I love the way you warn us in you title, that what we’re about to click on is a poem – look out world, poetry, just a click away! 🙂

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