cronechronicler

Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Haiku: Vintager’s Lament

How I long for Spring.
After days confined by ice
Want my jail door sprung.

Walking safe and free
I’ll smell every flower bud.
Ample time for that.

6 Comments »