Shrouds veil our rise within the morning’s mist,
like pure raindrops suspended in cool air
we are reminded certain moments missed
will walk our day, must we believe it fair?
The mind, a wandering vessel of hope
battles sea worthy giants of despair
with each walk, we tangle a fierce strung rope
that clings to every fiber; hanging there.
We want to believe our hearts are so true
to love, to have compassion, a spirit
in happiness can achieve such sky blue
authority upon our angst’s regret.
With human dignity we walk in shrouds
of mediocrity whilst He sweeps clouds
Please I would love you to share words, suggestions …