Poem: Dust of Earth

I will imagine the soul is inside out,
like life is.

I desire to be the dust of all dust,
the earth of plenty.

I might imagine every minute is worthy,
the seconds never complaining.

I forge through the shadows,
knowing the thorns will bleed.

I desire to be the green of abundance,
the layers never ending.

Leave a comment

Pisaries Creator Avatar
June 2023
M T W T F S S
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930