A Silent Serenade

In a prized journal, creative spirit sketched in squiggling curves and crafted words.
On this eve, crimson tinted eggs ready for Sunday’s cracking.
Upon a thawing terra, bare feet sensing the metaphysics of electromagnetic creation.
In our hearts, a longing for the unplotting of the script.
In a young girl’s vision, an outdoor egg hunt.
In a mama’s prayer, an appreciation of the gifts we were given and reclaiming all its sacredness.
Upon a spring awakening, the brilliance of salvaging the art of humanity.
In the air, a spring bird’s song.
Within our cells, a new expansion that oscillates on this planet and beyond.

5 thoughts on “A Silent Serenade

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