Through shadowed trails of a night so deep,
The silver wind does wildly sweep.
Who snuffed the candle of the skies,
Concealing golden, starry eyes?
Behind the clouds — soft and gray,
The world feels sinful yet in play.
It trembles in my palm, so small —
Alone, I craft my dreams’ thin shawl.
The dreams that wander through my mind,
In silver nights with winds entwined,
I hold what lingers in my grasp —
A world that yearns for warmth to clasp.
I warm my soul in sparks that pass,
With hope to greet the morning at last...
***
In my country, we have a saying that morning is wiser than evening. In general, sometimes it is good to postpone a decision to mature and then choose how to act.
Thank you for reading.
About the Creator
Mariana Busarova
Reading and writing are part of me. I feel them both so naturally connected with me.
https://medium.com/@busarovamariana
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You Are the Storm
Photo by master1305 on Freepik *** I have always thought that love must be like a calm harbor. To be a shelter. To save us from the storms, even those that rage into my heart… I have been thinking that love must be a caress, soft and gentle, like a cashmere scarf, and be as warm as it is…
By Mariana Busarova11 months ago in Poets
Comments (4)
A beautifully woven piece—like a quiet promise that dawn will bring clarity. That saying is so wise! Sometimes, all we need is a little time (and maybe some sleep).
such a lovely piece <3
This is stunning and I love the sentiment behind it. I love that... "morning is wiser than evening." Thank you for writing and sharing this! There are so many gorgeous lines in your poem to love.
Resounding poem 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾