
When the wind calls you home,
I hope you become poetry.
When you have nothing left to say,
I hope you write poetry.
When all in you has been turned
Into the noise of the world,
I hope you find poetry to quiet it again.
And child,
When you have naught else
That you can depend upon,
I hope you have poetry.
Nice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person