It is like a raindrop, gently sliding down a glass pane window.
It is like a spider, slowly climbing south on the intricate web.
It is like a stream, quietly gurgling over smooth pebbles in the silt.
It is like a syrup, sweetly dripping over the edge of a pancake.
It is like a breeze, softly blowing through the trees in the park.
It is like a turtle, deftly edging along toward a puddle.
It is like a baby, silently drifting off to a restful peace.
It is like a flower, naturally forming new veins as it matures.
It is like a sunset, gradually sinking into the edge of the horizon.
It is like a mind, languidly melting into a vast nothingness.
The time, it just crawls.
Posts
1 comment:
beautiful poem. makes me think of molasses in January. Or ice melting in Iceland. I feel ya.
mucho amor.
Post a Comment