wish
with as much grace,
as the bud that disappears
when the petals bloom.
i wish i could disappear
like the mist over the mountains,
soft footed, careful
not to disturb anything.
i wish i could disappear
like the twinkle of a star,
and leave no trace
so morning comes unblemished.
i wish i could disappear
with as much relief,
like the last knowing breath
so efficient death can step gently.
Labels: poetry
2 Comments:
Ooh, nice.... the bud disappearing when the petals open into a flower... mist leaving nothing disturbed...
never thought of it that way before. but i guess part of being a writer means seeing things differently. thank you... :)
Critically, I can't say much. I refuse, or rather my mind refuses to read this poem as a writer. I'm just content being the audience and sharing your thoughts. A wonderful idea to write a poem on! I agree with Annie: no one can think like a writer can.
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