When the flower bows its head,
then all is lost.
Healing sleep knitting raveled sleeves of care?
and the death stroke swift and sure.
to be so sure of death’s gloaming.
Endings also mean new beginnings.
Hold tight to that hope. It will get you through.
then joy has been overcome.
is a wee bit of water and some sunshine.
Girl! I said water! Not whiskey.
Ah hindsight — must it always be 20/20?
for the flower cannot then face the sun.
moments filled with gladness;
take warmth and comfort
dear one, in that sun — a vision of grace and hope
an understanding that it shines on everyone
no matter if you hide your face.
Here. Just peek a bit
through the laced fingertips.
Your eyes will adjust, I swear.