Scary at first,
Being small and alone,
Not knowing which way to grow,
where to turn....
Sometimes it was hot,
A toasty burn--
then wind brought
laughing rain--
tempting death,
swirling rings of the insane.
Then blinding
heavy snow made me sag.
And though young
I felt like a hag.
The hostile came
stomping my heart,
they didn’t care
if I fell apart.
But I had hope,
An innate survival mechanism
helped me cope.
Something deeper kept me alive
and a seedling of faith
made me survive.
Poem and primitive illustrations by Eve Gaal
May you always thrive!
Amen! Very nice. And a good message.
ReplyDeleteVery creative imagery, Eve!
ReplyDeleteI'm not a fan of poetry, but you do it exceptionally well!
ReplyDeleteOh Eve,
ReplyDeleteThis is just lovely.
I have tears in my eyes, because I feel quiet like this.
If I get to the grown tree part is still up in the air.
cheers, parsnip
Hey Eve,
ReplyDeleteThis was the sort of prose that grows on me. The seed of your soul has been sown.
Gary
I like the part about the "innate survival mechanism" and I want to know more about that! Great work. Thank for the read.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
ReplyDelete