Time,
Like the wind upon the cliffs,
Smoothes over rough edges of our reckless insensitivity’s
Softening sharp points of the tongue
Flattening the indentations left by bitterness
Time,
Like the rain upon the dessert arroyo,
Washes over the erosion of our hearts
Swells and reshapes the fabric of our selves
Forms what was into what is
Time,
Like the stone polishers cloth,
Buffs away the layers of our malcontent
Brings brightness into the dull and dreary fortress of our souls
Reflecting anew
To be dropped into the pocket of our memories
beautifully written, sam! the imagery this conjures is magical. (((HUGS))), and welcome to author's den...i hope you'll like it here, they treat you like family. love, karla. :)
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Jack