Patchwork Prose and Verse
against the backdrop of clear cut pine trees
their homes have all fallen, logs now piled high
it gutted my soul as I mourned for their loss
from one lone hardwood tree left standing tall
the song of a wood thrush brings hope to all
proclaims resilience, brings me to my knees
its gratitude praise song raised to the sky
only the stars are
visible when
the trees close their
eyes and lift
their leaves
in prayer
when this
pinhole light
of heaven
seeps down
breathing song
into leaf
into branch
into trunk
into forest
when shimmery
halo glitter
of ancestral
angels
cascades down
swaying waves
into oceans
into lakes
into streams
and creeks
for all the world
to hear
the music
of hope
for all those
still here
who listen
**first lines inspired by words photographed at The Immersive Titanic Exhibit in Atlanta, Georgia last weekend
Common Threads 