The Child Of Tomorrow
We pray in hope
The Child Of Tomorrow
A child holds a seed in her palm.
Small as a whisper.
She gazes at it with patience
older than her years.
As if the world leans on her hand.
She digs into the soil,
fingers trembling but sure.
She places the seed
as if laying a star into the earth.
Trusting it to rise.
Around her the city groans.
Horns and broken wires.
But she does not turn her head.
She listens to the silence
between heartbeats and roots.
In her eyes grows a field.
No sorrow can walk there.
Green blades grow
meeting her shoulders.
Crown her with mornings.
And when she sleeps.
Dreams slip out of her mouth.
Becoming clouds.
Carrying rain gentle as hope.
Falling where the seed waits.
Tomorrow will bloom.
Not from the hands of kings.
But from a child with dirt on her nails.
And faith that light remembers its way back.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
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