Amaryllis blooms
in the darkest of seasons,
the light that I crave.

~*~

Black moth and fireflies
do things that nobody thinks,
dark and beautiful.

~*~

Who knows how sky feels
passing by the whites and pinks,
thousand orchard tales.

~*~

The state of my lips
is somewhat like parched landscape,
awaiting soft rain.

~*~

The language of leaves
is one understood by ear,
sweet susrurration.

 

 

Photo credits: Loris Marie, Unsplash

Day Seventeen ~ Transforming Fridays with Nature’s Wonders

Posted for Play It Again @ Real Toads