Sunday Morning In Paradise
I am happy you carried the burden
to the quiet bench at dawn,
and for the few worth saving,
you opened your hands like morning petals.
You have climbed your silent mountains,
held your values to the sun—
I did not know the way,
but you did.
I lived only by the mercy of hope,
by the small, trembling light
you coaxed to stay.
Blessed is the head of the law,
steady as a lantern in wind,
and blessed are those
who do not bar your path.
All the trees in the forest bow—
save one that stands stout with knowing,
its bark a testament,
its heartwood strong.
Around it, leather-bound books breathe quietly,
healthy, wise,
waiting at your command,
rising like warm breath
from your lips.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
