Slowing tides
He shows His distance
‘I have to leave, again.’
Subtly the moon whispers: ‘I’m still here.
Allow me to hold those tears
I’ve been collecting them all in a mason jar
from the lovers the grievers all the beasts of the season.
When your love returns, my Dear then will I set free those tears,
the oceans now full of all’s despair.
New life will form, your roots firm, earlier will co...