Today's muse: Sunday Scribblings
Today's prompt: #333 - Drought
* * *
Drought
It was arid,
and my soul had withered.
The rain would not come
and thirst robbed my spirit.
When the deluge came
it thundered down in icy spikes,
pummelled my body
until it woke.
Beneath the waves,
I choked my pain
until it ceased to thrash
and buck.
Buoyant once more,
I float along the river—
the pennies washed from my eyes—
and I see you once again.
1 comment:
Monica...so great to read your writings again. I have been gone too long. The busy schedule is somewhat behind me now and hopefully can get back to your musings again.
Dan
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