Will we stay,
linger just a little longer?
Or will we leave,
and vanish like
the northern lights?
Perhaps the truth,
we dread to hear,
but how do we
go on from here?
Our love began with
a perhaps,
with the
lightest wafts
of rose petals scattered
across the auroras —
and ends, right here,
in the embrace
of shimmering streaks
where we seek
forever anchored in
a perhaps.
Image Source: Matthias Tillen, Unsplash
This is a poem I wrote a week ago, just staring at the sky and daydreaming (sometimes I feel this is one of the happiest and most fruitful ways I can spend my time - just daydreaming).
Whilst browsing this morning, I was really heartened to read @jaynie's poems as well as @d-pend's discourse on writing and creativity.
It hastened the arrival of my own poetic Muse, the results of which I will share with you all soon!
Blessings, my friends, and thank you for reading! ❤
