Metaphor

Place the last brick carefully
Do not let it chip or shear
It holds up little but means everything.
When the earth moves under your feet
Can you hear the beat of your heart in time?
Face the wind when it blows
Because it tells you where everything is going
And from whence it came.
Pierce the surface of this placid pool of water
And discover the desire you hold in your hands.

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This entry was posted in Poetry by bgm1969. Bookmark the permalink.

About bgm1969

This blog is updated by a guy who’s overweight, silly, Liberal, spiritual rather than religious, infatuated with beauty and grace, musically blessed, and always changing.

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