ManicDDaily

In the way that

In the way that the sun still lights the sky
when it has sunk below
the opposite hill,
and the moon as white as a cloud
shows
in the still blue,
so, you hold me
in my own heart. 

In the way that tree limbs
make a porthole,
an “oh” in the high green leaves
to the other side
of the valley,
to all that
opening,
so you watch over me
hardly seen. 

And I—what
do I do for you? 
Give thanks.

************************

A kind of quick draft poem—I’m not sure this drawing works, but one that I had!  Have a good week. 

This entry was posted on July 10, 2022 at 9:44 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.