Love is blind, yet i can see
Mountains, where clouds sit,
On a sunny clear day. Yet they
Disappear in misty apparitions,
Yet they remain, unseen and i
Unseeing know, and wonder not,
For they are there.
Yet, warmth sees me, then i can be snow
Warmth of sun, I cling to honing
Divine presence. Yet somewhere,
Snow lays her magic like a blanket
Cold and white. Yet someone dons
Mittens in pairs to catch
Snowflakes falling. Yet to reap
The Rewards of divinity.
Poets United Midweek Motif ~
Life: Paradox And / Or Balance
