Photocredit: Unplash.com/Jeremy Bishop |
The color of soil
Ripe for planting seeds
That grow bountiful plants—
Beautiful blooms and healthy harvests...
Hands,
Work steadily in the sun,
Brown from the golden rays,
They feast on scintillating crops
Seasoned for the soul and perfectly prepared...
Lifted
My spirit each evening—
Sitting around the dinner table,
Antique wood—brown and rich
With memories spanning lifetimes of generation,
Familiar folk tales and memories made...
Me
In the middle
Of wise old women
Shaped and sharpened by time—
The brown bags of betrayal beneath their eyes...
High—
We aim, above and
Beyond our wildest dreams
Covered by this brown that births
Life, gifted by God for glory and greatness.
No comments
Post a Comment