Poetry for weary souls

He stands alone,
on unstable banks,
unsure of his footing,
unable to go forward.

Fields of green,
sun-swept glory,
stretch on infinite.

Trust blindly,
he’s been told,
make the leap,
don’t look back.


Noah the Great said...

I keep trying to make a leap, but her arms are already holding someone else.

Uncle E said...

Sounds like you've made your decision, eh?