Days flutter pass
like the wind blown pages of a book
to rest on one page
which you decorate with
happiness,
glorious art the colors of heaven
drawn with joy, love, future
until a rush of air blows hostile
rips the edge from the seam
to a page of scribbled
pain,
stiff lines of anguish, questioning grief
shades of light and dark
swirled into murky gray.
The breeze of life wafts pages
slowly,
build to a fanning pace
past blurs of memory,
landing on a blank canvas,
another first page,
ready for you.
alvaradofrazier.com 
Beautiful.
LikeLike
I’m blown away!
LikeLike
Thank you Sabra and Amada. I’m glad this resonated with both of you and the others who clicked the Like button.
LikeLike