Letting Go
Lying in an open meadow beneath a blanket of stars,
I feel the awesome vastness of the universe.
The celestial lights that twinkle and shimmer seem far,
but become close and touchable when written in verse.
Would it be wrong to wrap my arms around a rainbow,
or to lasso a far away day dream from a child?
Perhaps it would be better to just let those colors go,
along with those sweet visions to run free and wild.
Capturing moments of time in a bottle seems fine,
but remember a prison of love can be a restrictive cage.
The captured will soon die without the freedom to breathe and shine,
or will resent their life reduced to a single page.
10/29/18
Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2018
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