To Dance in the Light

Come dance with me,

into the light.

To slip outside,

the dark of night.

Just open and breath,

while tears do pour.

To take my hand,

and live once more.

 

Going back to Spring, where the Gardenias first bloomed and the rain provided a nice dreamy fog. What is it about nature and poetry that seem to go hand in hand? Starting a short series, "Two Poetic Friends."

Done