Is like any other day for most, Some have careers in nursing the sick, Some are rescue workers, and many others in meaningful jobs as such, and like every other day we must strive to do better than the last, to be kind, compassionate, and mindful.
The moon seems so high in the night sky, and yet somehow he wraps around me, Consoles my daily troubles away, His radiance warmly encloses my entire being, He adores me, causing my soul to glow.
I don’t get to grips with the lines on the pad for calligraphy. Which way to stroke a nib let alone a brush Tame in their own might Love to see the words bleed onto paper from ink These words don’t need bandages They’re beautiful etchings. The grain of sand is A molecule of time Hyperbolic symbolism Of an immigrant Having pin and tacked memories Loose stitches to those wounds No nip and tuck here A patchwork so pretty Forever my piece of mind Stolen from a gleam Of sweatshirt soaked nightmares Imprints everywhere.