Sun, 12/30/2018 - 21:42 -- S.H

You are strong.



When you wake up,

Hell is stirred by your

early morning yawns,

the sound of your coffee maker,

and the persistent fire burning in your soul.

When you wake,

Mountains are moved.

Storms are calmed.

The sun comes

and slices through the darkness

For you are your own kind of storm

The kind you chase.

The kind you dance in.

The kind needed in order

For flowers to grow

Life flourishes in your presence


This poem is about: 
Our world


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