Monday, February 21, 2022

In the Quiet Hours



















In the still and quiet hours

when the wind no longer blows,

when the pain eats at your heart

and joy lies frozen in the snow—

how delicate the tiny stem

the one still reaching for the light,

the heart that only wants to mend

that searches for the sun again;

the butterfly with broken wing

who seeks out respite from her pain

as love that’s carried her heart

slips her face like falling rain.

When we’re lost in our despair

and know that we’re beyond repair–

like the stem that seeks the light

and breaks the earth again to bloom,

we ride the storm, the endless night

and wait for time to bind our wounds.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2022


Image C. Parant Appetite for Photos Used with Permission.

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