You’re the bread dough
out on the windowsill,
the sun in the
morning skies.
You’re the balloon slipped
from a tiny hand,
and the gaze of
searching eyes.
You’re the flood waters
after days of rain.
and Lazarus stumbling
in surprise.
You’re the full wolf moon
on a January night.
Through the darkness
you will rise.
—–
AUDIO FILE:
Pen's Ink 