deepundergroundpoetry.com

Love Ebbs

The torrents have receded,
and the river is low.
 
The bankside reeds dry and brittle
like yesterday’s plans.
 
What is left in the bed,
but hard stones, worn and tired?
 
Don’t wait for the rains,
they come unbidden and untamed.
 
There, behind the thorns
of self-doubt and restlessness,
are the springs.
 
Hold your heart out like a cup,
and fill it to the brim.
 
Drink, sweet one
and refresh yourself.
Written by Atakti
Published | Edited 6th Dec 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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