Rain is shaken from the leaves
whose blanket warms the rainbow river,
the sun's reflection in her mirror,
the moonlight illumined sea.
Every day I give myself
a little more to the other side
to and fro, we coincide,
staying, going, somewhere else;
as above, I am alive.
Said colors live in the light,
and did before rain started falling;
the storm's lightning downward, arising,
flickering in humid night.
Every day I give myself
a little more to the other side
ebb and flow, from death to life
going, staying, somewhere else;
As above, I am alive.
And when a soul is planted,
like the seed of a wildflower,
regardless of a higher power;
shall it not rise up towards the heavens?
Every day I give myself
a little more to the other side
bound by the same mind, before, and I,
staying, going, somewhere else;
as above, I am alive.
About the Creator
Sara Wynn
Poetry is my language, and Earth is my playground.
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