Serene
Trickle down the drops of water,
In your face a drawn dismay.
Almost withered, you seek laughter,
A hint of joy you wish for a day.
The sun scorched your skin dark,
And the sky brought no rain.
But there in your head perched a Lark,
Sang beautifully for you with no gain.
How precious and graceful,
Is this meadow in the middle of a desert.
Have a rest so plentiful,
Forget about how you're hurt.
Sit now, as a Willow Tree sprouts,
Let it give you comfort, let it give you shade.
Throw all your burden and all doubts,
Enjoy this serenity before it fades.
Copyright © Yehoshua Yochanan | Year Posted 2023
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