and my eyes are misted grey
how many times must I fall
before I walk in my own shoes
when the road is unmarked
and scarred by stones & thick tubers
how many times must I question
before I am swept away to the sea
when all the answers are blowing
in the wind, rolling beyond my grasp
I listen deep to the drumbeats
of trees, shimmering in golden jade
and marvel the arc of falling leaves
bowing to the wind
Grace@Everyday Amazing
*Title and poem inspiration from Bob Dylan, Blowin' In the Wind
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - We are writing about Bob Dylan, the Nobel Prize winner in Literature. Come and join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.
