Persephone
The wind carries my song
From my lips to the corners of the earth,
And the flowers in gladness bloom,
The trees stand a little taller,
And the springs bubble from the roots of the mountains.
The wind carries my whispers
From my teeth to the skies.
But I am oblivious to their sound;
My musings fall not upon my own ears.
Give me grace to renounce my own voice on the wind,
For sometimes I don’t believe it’s there,
Despite the love of flowers for the sound in air.
And yet I sing on
Desperate to hear the melody for myself,
Clinging on to an ancient belief
Give me grace to renounce
Copyright © Davis Mills | Year Posted 2022
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