With a broken history.
When we ignore the depth
Of our injuries,
Nobody gets to be.
Hope still lives in me.
We can break this cycle,
We can unfold this mystery.
A Happy Friday!
United by healing.
And the love we all wish to see.
I want to write a poem that turns exciting words into confetti! Flying through the air, getting stuck in my hair, making these current complaints seem petty…
A recipe for the potion found in the fountain of youth!
A story with more presence than the reindeer on the roof!
All these high hopes mix with ghosts in the photo library of my tablet… I know this poem is out there, but until I see it, I can’t have it…..
A quest addict in a magic attic makes discovery a habit!