Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Poem: What Are The Chances?
Into this plain, brown cup let fall
one drop, one shining crystal ball,
mirroring the blue above
it trembles, shines and seems to call:
-come take this cup,
come drink thereof,
come touch and taste the sky, my love-
He comes, entranced by what he sees,
approaches close on bended knee,
leaving the safety of his shell,
he leans to kiss and speaks his peace:
- child of the clouds,
you taste of trees,
you gift me life, I set you free.