Embedded in the rich, dark soil of history
My roots are still a part of me
Nourishing me, spurning me on Making me face another dawn
Of uncertainty
Tickled by the gentle rains
Tackled by the hurricanes
My limbs drink in the morning sun
As I face another dawn
Of mystery
Trampled cruelly underfoot
Softly sighing overlooked
Moment by moment I grow strong
Searching for another dawn
Of destiny
As I graduate from Mother Earth
Creation celebrates my birth
And marvels at what I've become
Survivor of the dark and dawn
A blossom
Well done Myra it's a rare flower thank God if it's everlasting? The destiny of a blossom is not fair at all.
I can hear that voice, it seems so real... Beautifully composed (...of uncertainty; of mystery; of destiny; a blossom) and expressed. I love this!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I liked this it more like the type of poem i write. Thank you take care.Roy.