My eyes won’t stay closed.
We have been abandoned by the
daily poison.
Sometimes we have no self-love to
sacrifice ourselves for others.
It can become torturous with destruction,
from as far back as the weird sisters.
If only you can see the beauty
in the flood.
The ripples and all the things of change.
We should thank the universe
for building us up for future strength.
We are here to gather on this Navajo
blanket that covers our earth
with the music, pain, and grief
To fall back sometimes, our ancestors.
But magnificently, we are drawn in by
the sound of the violin.
It ruffles our feathers.
Can you hear the healing music? | MB
Beautiful metaphors in this poem!
"But magnificently, we are drawn in by
the sound of the violin. It ruffles our feathers."