The gentle wind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
poem about finding hope

Submitted: April 16, 2013

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Submitted: April 16, 2013

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There is only living or dying

There is nothing in between

It is empty yet inviting

A big hole meant for falling

 

It calls out your name

Arms ready to embrace

It promises some rest

From this tiring quest

 

You found yourself screaming

You heard no voice echoing

No one seemed listening

But you can’t stop from begging

 

Hold my hand or take my life

Pull me close or cut the rope

The depth down there is hard to see

Yet more comforting, I like to flee.

 

In silent I sat, I quiet my thoughts

And then I heard someone spoke

The answer I got, came not from words

It’s but the wind, that gently blows

 

Humming a song of lovely tune

Swirling leaves to reach the moon

I bow my head and felt my heart

I pray for hope with faith and love.

 


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