Monday, November 06, 2006

Miracles Come in Splashes

Lately I mourn,
some black drab
shawl covers me,
clings to my neck
and shoulders,
drapes down my
back, pulling
me down to ground
where I wait gravely.

Miracle's come in little splashes
a flicker of a sign,
a dart of hope -
crying encourages rainbow's
rays colour the heart.

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