Acceptance

 

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Courtesy: Poets United

As the day draws to a close

The Ganga* loses herself in the sea

Poetry words blunt into prose

The night writes the stars for me

 

 

The hawk-eye is fixed on the mice

Worms shift to beaks from the bark

Flowing water hardens into ice

I’ve fireflies to write in the dark

 

 

I am glad that I was born

I am glad that I shall die

I am glad that my path was of thorn

I will never ask Thou why

 

 

 

*The Ganges

 

Posted for my Midweek Motif ~ Acceptance @ Poets United

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