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  • Writer's pictureKate Godin

Perennial

I feel such gentle pleasure in my own life even as the world is shattered and hurting. Yet here I am, quietly joyful, gratitude as wide as the sky.

I do grieve. I do curl in on myself

and droop toward a weary earth.

But now I am only in wonder that I keep opening and absorbing the light for longer at a time.


 

Photo by Zoltan Tasi

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1 Comment


liz
liz
Feb 16, 2022

This poem feels like breathing. Cyclical, ever-changing, and always a return to home.

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