Poem – That Delicate Balance

I listen and watch
the stories unfold
of tragedy and unrest
of the mountains unease.

There is no escaping the
silent truths under
whispered breath –
we are at her mercy.

In the throes of spring
I swim within my own
journey and the resurrection
I undertook with your

hand gently upon my
shoulder and the deep
promises I made while
bathed in the ancient light.

Spring, Sunday Morning Conversation

Spring, Sunday Morning Conversation

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