An ode to the dry season
“The scythe can’t cut / excitement lingers.”
That’s the line that made me sit up.
I've read a few poems lately dressed up in moral courage but rooted in fear. This isn’t one of them. This one knows what’s happening. Knows the reaper’s face. And still chooses to grow.
Real resilience isn’t passive. It’s refusal wrapped in roots.
Thank you Michael
Beautiful!
Thank You Eddye
Makes me feel more alive - able to respond - thank you
Good! That makes me so happy
Beautiful! Thank you for this hopeful poem!
you are so welcome
“The scythe can’t cut / excitement lingers.”
That’s the line that made me sit up.
I've read a few poems lately dressed up in moral courage but rooted in fear. This isn’t one of them. This one knows what’s happening. Knows the reaper’s face. And still chooses to grow.
Real resilience isn’t passive. It’s refusal wrapped in roots.
Thank you Michael
Beautiful!
Thank You Eddye
Makes me feel more alive - able to respond - thank you
Good! That makes me so happy
Beautiful! Thank you for this hopeful poem!
you are so welcome