“writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. we are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. it's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. you can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.”
- anne lamott
Saturday, February 9, 2013
in the golden light
in the golden light they meet running
Father, son, and son
the littlest one, toddling with swift speed behind
brothers do not wait, brother does not ask it
in the golden light, pure joy
distilled and drifting from the sky like
the yellow autumn leaves that lend
their radiance to this setting sun
in the golden light, my one desire
the father loving, the sons rejoicing
mother standing at a distance, smiling
this moment I would make my own.
in the golden light, my heart swelling
the instant fades, I must press on
joy will only last a moment
autumn leaves
setting sun
nature constant moving
in the golden light, i trust a hope:
someday: my sun rising.
Labels:
poetry
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