She hath wings

Learning to soar above life's storms

Gentle, calming soaking rain;

Soothing, reassurance comes-

Running into tiny pools;

Drought a banished thing.

Peaceful hearts and minds refreshed;

Hope unfurls the weary leaf-

Crumpled saplings rise once more;

Death a banished thing.

Upwards grows the tender stem;

Seeking warmth of midday sun-

Buds are waiting, hearts receiving;

Life a chosen thing.

©️ M. Patterson 7.11.25

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