‘When the Ground Breathes’ is one of the poems I’ve been writing lately, as I work on my second anthology. I’ve been teasing out each poem in my mind, exploring exactly what I would like to say … and little by little, I’m starting to arrive at my destination. π
When the Ground Breathes
Their steps were light
On the old roads they traversed
On torn branches
On wilting petals
That breathed βthirstβ¦β
They knit stones
Into mountains
Called rivers to shine
And crafted blankets of daisies
Poppies
Wild flowers
To cradle weary meadows
To sleep.
This is beautiful π
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Thank you πΈπ
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π You’re welcome π
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