Poetry | Letters From a Woke Woman
The snow brought me in. I searched for a warm spot to quiet my restless soul. Full of irritance, caged like a bird, I wandered in, immediately at peace.
I sit above the crowded streets, The wind gentle on my face It moves the tendrils of my hair, caressing my cheek like a lover would. It moves the leaves and flowers, Sending them singing in a mere whisper The sun charms the clouds to let it peek through, to shine its rays upon those belowContinue reading “Rhythm of Creation”
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