Ekphrastic Poetry · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

The Willow Am I

The Willow Am I

 

Some people live in the night

While owls of the morning sleep,

And small raindrops creep in the dusk

Like birds of prey upon the dewy grass.

 

The Willow am I, punished by the hidden sun

That laughs on the edge of night

As I curse the screaming dawn

And burning dew of darkness

To find that subtle light

Embedded in my timeless searching.

 

How I panic at my failure

To touch its screen from within and without.

I will drown in its rain of sight renewed,

And my thirsty roots,

Blinded in the dark earth,

Shall drink of its golden liquid.

 

Copyright ©2018/03/23 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: “Sun’s Treasure” digital art ©Martha Harris

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