"The worst feature of a new baby is its mother's singing." — Kin Hubbard
This is the place I go when any bitterness from my past creeps up on me…
Delicate as a rose
Her skin is milky and soft
Beneath her the cold rock kisses her feet
Below the rock, waves crash with fury
Wind whips through her dark hair
Giving life to it
She looks across the sea
With a longing in her heart
As though the waves
Will bring back answers
Her ears are brushed with the wind’s whisper
A calm comes over her
The anger inside her has found a home
She can feel it leave her body, fall over the rocks
And join the angry sea
© Copyright – All rights reserved – Cristina Cole
Because Happ'y'ness depends on 'Y'ou ! Let's decode the little things that bring happiness amidst this life full of care :)
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