THE BEAUTIFUL THE SILVER
Perhaps you will cry into the wind
On some future day
Or in memory
Remembering an open meadow
How the grasses swayed
How the wind itself
Came up suddenly
And spelled out in the grasses for you
You are free;do not despair
Free as the clouds drifting
Free as the open air
And the meadow flowers will open their shy buds
And welcome the rain
Pouring down into
The beautiful the silver gullies of your soul.
Mary angela douglas 2 february 2024
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