my poetic side


 

Words collect like morning dew on leaves—
offered, absorbed, refracted—
a quiet exchange in the rhythms of being.


Voices scatter across a vast terrain
gently meeting with fierce exclamations,
each one feeding, each one fed.


Community thrives beneath unseen threads
binding both fragile and the bold,
roots deepening in shared soil.

 

 

 

🌷(3)

◄ lore-keeping

bridges ►

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