Thick and gray
the clouds of winter
break open on
the ides of March.
The threshold of hope
bringing reason for faith,
while discontent
yet plagues the restless.
Roots of the ancient forest
stir beneath paved streets,
life older than imagination
come to resolve our sorrow.
Within the hardest hearts
there is the sound of water,
as red buds of spring
fill the flowering plum,
turning eyes of the awakened
east to rising light.
Reading of “Eyes of the Awakened” with music by The Chieftains.
~💞🙏💞🙏💞 ~
This Poem is so beautiful Don!
The promise of Spring is always such a wonderful reminder for living a life of gratitude and reason for faith.
I love the phrase, “Within the hardest of hearts there is the sound of water.” That truth is always with us.
Thank you Don.
The eyes of the awakened are indeed turning to the East!
Don, good poem for the season. The photo screams of happiness in handsome Hynesian style! Kids are obviously Irish rascals.