Lost in the jungle I peek through the leaves. π―
Walk through the bushes and trees.
Searching my soul like a forest,
I feel like a tourist. πΉ
Been a while since I've reasoned with "me".
I've planted some seeds that have grown. π±
Some into weeds,
And others subconsciously sown, into monsters. πΉ
But I am not scared even shaded by shadows.
Or by branches that stretch out to trip. πΏ
I focus on fruits and on flowers,
And blessings that shower. β
On my jungle that's blooming within.
-13.7 π