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Tiny circle,
Center,
Living in us all,
Outlined in hopes and dreams,
Called by infinite names
Known well, by each keeper.
Tiny circle,
Now shot through with arrows,
Begs mending of its torn edges,
Begs smoothing of the marksman’s ravaging.
Tiny circle,
Center,
Living in us all,
Hold tightly to its clarity and peace,
Like a lake reflecting the sun’s path.
Think of wholeness. Of wounds that heal.
Shore up the tiny circle,
Bright circle of promise,
That still lives,
In us all.
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Another beautiful poem by my sister Annette. She knows how to talk about the life that we’re all living now. Wonderful.
So glad you liked this one and for always being so supportive my brother. It means so much to me.