If all you have left is a wooden spoon
The lake is chilled….
Perhaps love is just a question on the icy breeze…
The warmth of sunlight…
Flittering whispers in the shadows…
Pale reflections in the waters…
On a tiny wood-railed bridge
Lived the gaunt hope
Of a silent scream…
I will never own to be mine…
Rather…
I see the patches of
Wild white snowdrops in the grass
Reckless beauty…
And remember the moment of a morning…
When a rainbow's end graced
A twisting mountain road…
When I drove through the magic
Of hued light…
And emerged…
Smiling…
On the other side…
Perhaps love may be a question on the icy breeze…
And the lake may be chilled for now…
But I believe questions are merely handmaidens
Of answers
In waiting…
If all you have left is a Wooden Spoon…
Get out there and stir the Universal Dust…
Like Sweetness…
There is Wonder in Pain…
- AuraGem's blog
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