Your Sacrosanct Solitude

Raging rain drops hurl themselves against the weary Earth

Who no longer can resist and opens up Her slender arms

I am held hostage by the imposing heavens of somber gray

I construct melancholy letters in the fjords of my mind

But the words would never captivate your thunderstorms

And wildflowers soul- oh no, who am I to break your silence

And devour your sacrosanct solitude- I bear the sorrow of rain.

Reviews

[Emily B]

there is a moment between fair weather and foul when the heavens themselves open completely up

poetry rains

i felt that in your words