They say everyone owns a chapter
an incessant need, unreasonable want
one that they’re afraid to let out.
Here I was, chasing butterflies
and looking to revisit a forgotten past,
hoping to recover what was lost behind.
It’s beautiful isn’t it?
How every pore of our being hurts
and yet we refuse to give up.
There is power in hope and song,
in heeding to instinct that begs
to tag along, and flowers of bright
and feisty bloom.
I thought, smiling beneath the harvest moon.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted for ‘Sunday Mini-Challenge’ @ Real Toads
and Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United