She moves, and moves
frequently enough,
expects life to fill a yearning,
bottomless craving, a pit.
Young face etched with uncommon sorrow,
she doesn’t yet understand the power of thoughts.
Nubile, she hasn’t calculated
life as the means by which we are blessed
with conditions and kinesis,
this dance of adversity and rapture;
maturation only as rapid as we, ourselves allow,
simply to surrender into the miracle
of a blink in eternity,
this life, as we know it –
splendor on a spinning orb.
I love the message of your poem, and the sound of the words is beautiful. I just read it aloud to hear you speak those beautiful lines.
Ronnie, you do me honor to read my words aloud – thank you! I often read poetry aloud, myself – just to get a sense of what the poet intended. It’s a unique medium, that way. Aloha, dear.
Thank you for visiting my blog. I’m glad you enjoyed my post and hope you will come again some time. Blessings, Natalie 🙂