Tell me,
Does the wind whisper, or do the trees?
Does the fire crackle, or do the logs?
Does the rain fall, or do the clouds
break?
Unable to hold themselves up
Unable to find the strength to continue existing
Too weak to stay themselves
So they dissolve,
they dissipate,
and become something else —
rain —
But rain has its own power
and perhaps to become it is not weakness, but
another kind of strength.
I truly enjoyed this poem. There is a balance to the whole thing. It brings about emotions and questions where there were none before. Wonderful.
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Thank you so much. 🙂
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Another winning entry, can we have a copy of it?
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