A young camera,
snapping lively photographs,
Learns from steady hands.

People go missing from our lives
Either leave or disappear
Or may appear unfamiliar
Hard to feel they were once
Intimate part of your life
Had a place in your heart.

Then they depart
Either you let them go
Or they leave you.

Maybe after years
You remember them with silent tears
Wished they had not gone
You shouldn't have let them go.

Guilt sits a weight in your heart
It's you made them depart
You and you and you
It's why relationships are few.

Hold those few strong,
Who knows
You may again go wrong.

I dropped a plate and it didn't break,
A silent triumph, a fleeting shake.
It danced mid-air, defied its fate,
And settled gently, as if to wait.

In that moment, fragile yet strong,
A whispered lesson, a gentle song.
Life's little stumbles, we might fear,
But not all falls end in a tear.

Sometimes, against the odds we face,
We find resilience, we find grace.
In shattered moments, hope can glow,
A plate unbroken, seeds of courage sow.

In the realm of skies and fleece,
The weather dances wild and free.
The sun shines bright, the rain does pour,
Changing moods forevermore.

Yet there stands the humble wether,
In pasture fields, through all weather.
Calm and steady, in the breeze,
Amidst the storm, amidst the peace.

When lightning strikes and thunder roars,
The weather shows its fearsome force.
But still, the wether stands its ground,
With silent strength, without a sound.

The weather shifts with every day,
A symphony in nature's play.
The wether, though, remains the same,
A steadfast soul, without acclaim.

Both weather and wether teach us well,
Of life's great ebb and flow to tell.
In ever-changing skies and land,
Find balance, grace, and understand.

For in the world of earth and sky,
We learn to live, we learn to try.
Like weather's whim and wether's grace,
We face our storms, we find our place.

a drop of rain upon a leaf
our lives flow slowly down

so amaphorous and brief
we make our way to ground

as we hang on to the end
of the blade we've found

we cannot on this place depend
so slip off without a sound

~~~

the blade of grass we clung to
hears the soft refrain

of the drip, it's music
it's leaf could not sustain

but it can't feel sorry
for the soil needs the rain.


soulsurvivor
(c) january 23, 2016

I wrote this on my birthdays
A while back. Thanks for reading.