Hanging heavy and low,
but still bitter.
Not yet ready to plummet to the earth.
These weights tug at my branches
I must prepare,
for all these unborn dreams,
wanting to live, to spread their own seeds.
A cup of coffee,
gravity
a morning yawn. Making
busy work
I tried a passion or two. They
yielded a small harvest, not enough
to survive the winter.
And winter is here,
reaching far inside the reserves,
testing out how brutally
it can ravage before collapse.
Lost in the blizzard, I stumble.
Your dreams call to me, a light leading me home.
If I can't find my own, I'll follow yours,
we'll make it through this storm.
Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 9:20 AM UTC
Hanging heavy and low,
but still bitter.
Not yet ready to plummet to the earth.
These weights tug at my branches
I must prepare,
for all these unborn dreams,
wanting to live, to spread their own seeds.
A cup of coffee,
gravity
a morning yawn. Making
busy work
I tried a passion or two. They
yielded a small harvest, not enough
to survive the winter.
And winter is here,
reaching far inside the reserves,
testing out how brutally
it can ravage before collapse.
Lost in the blizzard, I stumble.
Your dreams call to me, a light leading me home.
If I can't find my own, I'll follow yours,
we'll make it through this storm.
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