The forests glow in a milky sunshine, treetops finely silvered with frost. The faraway mountains float, groundless, on a white, bulky pillow of fog.
Hidden are the unspoken secrets of the soul, hidden in gloomy firs, all that’s forgotten and lost on my forest path.
The frozen world says: now it’s the time for peace. All things should stay still. Let the renewed force grow in the roots of the earth, in the depths of the mountains, under the sparkling ice of the ponds.
It’s a day of magic born from nowhere, a healing power flowing from the ancient wizardry of words, a childhood memory of the mysterious physical presence of a miracle.
Everything done is done, and everything said is said. The only thing left is joy.
@isleofwrite Poetry Pond workshop for deep feedback and precise suggestions.
@lenadr for proofreading.Interested in a relaxed place to learn new things or just kick back and chill with other writers and creative types? Check out The Isle of Write!
Under the "Workshop Waters" category are all of the places you can go to both give and receive help, advice, feedback, and inspiration.
@vitkolesnik.