In Mend

your soul is a river in mend

darkest hours, casting light shapes and charms

you spell out my love, my dear

 

 

 

and as it is to bend, again, in mend, your river touches mine: my soul, the land

in butterfly kisses, wishes and breath

your soul is a river

my river

your land

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and to the wonder,

forever be near

 

forever, forever, forever, my dear.

 
 
IMG_9626.JPG
 
C6D95724-EFDC-456E-9384-5163731770D2.JPG
 
 
 

written in Maine, 2017.

PoetryRachel Snack