Potpourri
If the trees could bleed
and the flowers cry out in pain,
Death would not rest so peacefully
Nor life runs helter-skelter.
If the eye of the needle could see,
The fabric of mankind wouldn’t be
so soiled and threadbare.
If walls could tell its tales
The secrets of the past would unfold.
When the beauty
shuts her eyes in anguish,
Pain becomes beautiful…
And heart gets caught up in a rapture.
With my cupped hands
I drank the ocean
wave upon wave
and quenched the thirst
to my soul’s content
by and by.
~Contest: 1428
Sponsor: Brian Strand
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