Love
To trust in what I
do not understand
The way flowers follow
with imperceptible grace
the sequence of day,
to bend at nightfall
like wheat in the wind,
to let go
like seedpods
anticipating spring,
to be still
with the softness
of my body, breathing,
is to be, perhaps,
like prayer
alive
and vital in the air.
Copyright © Audrey Carey | Year Posted 2012
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