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  Dec 2023 Edmund black
Melody Mann
life is unpredictable in its fickle nature,

moments can transform into a lifetime of shared splendor or somber recollection,

healing isn’t linear nor is life’s trajectory as we tread this path scattered with trials and tribulations,

time challenges our wit and forces our hand at resilience as we build ourselves countlessly to brace the changes that come our way,

that is the beauty of existing— understanding the significance of loss and relishing the triumph of union,

savoring the essence within us and radiating faith amid our silent prayers,

healing isn’t linear, nor is life’s trajectory as we are riddled with fates that at times make us question our purpose in retrospect to the everyday,

this breath is but a gift of chance for us to continue walking mindfully with the beauty that surrounds us,

you are but a flower in the garden of tomorrow; blossom endlessly.
Inspired by the art of letting go, this was written for a soul I cherish deeply. To personify the notion of healing and immortalize a bond that formed freely and gently… it’s the art of acceptance. A familiar dance that duets itself time and time again; resilience. Here is an ode to the persistence and strength nestled in overcoming the obstacles life bounces our way.
  Dec 2023 Edmund black
onlylovepoetry
Pradip marks the slow disappearance of faces in the market,
unknown yet familiar and thus important to the senses,
for our eyes crave continuity, comfort reassuring that time,
even time that robber par excellent, still provides some comfort
to our souls, in its own way, even the faces of strangers in familiar places are road markers, bookmarks, that even the known unknown offer a measure of solace, as we traverse the old familiar places
of daily life.

it must be remedied. some of you know that I make not idle promises,
that my promises to be there are effected, for I am affected by the
repair of the world in little, measurable manners, so the iCal calendar
modified with a Visit Pradip++, a new addition…

and on the way there
are few more exotic places where poetry grows that
will require some
layover visitations…

only time in its theiving secretive ways stands between me and
you denied grasping arms, taking the measure physical of a
beating heart
and river-wide smile,
maybe even I’ll practice with a trip to
remote foreign places, which they speak
the languages of poetry too,
Snake River, even Iowa!

olp/n.n.
Treat someone wrongly
maybe survive
Treat them as stupid
bees leave the hive
Stinger’s protruding
vitals exposed
Phylaxis laid bare
—venom explodes

(The New Room: December, 2023)
From the cradle
to the grave
we line up
to be enslaved !
and maybe, and probably
i cannot fix it
so will look after it
admire it daily
unless it rains
james
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