Jun 6, 2016

In a morning mist the shadows

sway, softly stir,

and the wind, hesitant,

barely touches the trees;

Dull, the memories, sharp the pangs

of having to return

to the somnambulant day.

The path in the dew

disappears in the moist expanse of the meadow.

I love what the light will reveal

once the sun is out of the mist.

I shall pray, let the morning stay

even after the mist is gone;

I will accept the light that will come

as the will of God.

Sushama Karnik

12 days ago

 Photo album: Арт

Artist, Karen Hollingsworth