How Courage Looks

Standard

only wise eyes fit over

a child’s smile

festive in the gleaming

of a silent twinkle

on a slim precipice

staring into the depths

daring the dark

 

folly loosed at long last finding

freedom for an old soul

surrounding a gentle gaze with storm

twisting round tranquility with scorn

yet still sitting in the middle

dandelion in hand

 

undiluted eyes in dilapidated glass

whose face remains

unshaken

and brow free of frivolous fevers

fretting in the fires of starched imposters

 

jasper, amber, sapphire sublime

or darker hues for shaded views

with blue-trimmed shutters

drawn and drawing

 

drowning a world without promise of buoyancy

these pools reign in poverty

before barns of grief

 

birthing stars of clarity like the dawn

reaching through windows for new rays

 

ever vigilant, ever vibrant

 

 

 

 

 

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