November Moondrops Poetry

Blossom: Petrarchan Sonnet

The past may feel convictable, near caged
The present may feel stuck into great dread
You are still breathing, beginnings ahead
The future may feel like an interchange
You fought previously same way as a sage
Knowledge had unveiled eminence that led
Where you are is meant to be, not misled
You had to let go and open a page
Dearest bud, wake up, rise up, through chaos
Start with your own blossom, be kind, inspire
You will get through battle and stiffen hues
You are free to bloom as vivid as gloss
The beauty will slowly be burning fire
The beauty will slowly be golden dews

~SDFR~