A Soft Golden Meadow -- Poem

  Author's Note

This one is my most recent poem, written moments before posting it. This poem is deeply personal, and touches on a part of me that I didn't want to see for the longest time. Yet I find peace in seeing it. 


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A Soft Golden Meadow


In my mind there sits a meadow

Soft and green as far as you can see

Grass the color of joy

Flowers white as innocence

Quiet as a grave, and just as peaceful


There in the center is an old willow tree

Its limbs branch far and wide

Some limbs Gnarled and twisted

Others straight and narrow

Its leaves are memories

Fluttering and falling


Under the tree is her

Her who basks in the sun

Her who smells the flowers

Her who dances with the leaves

Her dress flows like molted silver


In the field are rats

They scratch and bite

But not her

Her who the rats adore

Her who smiles and giggles at them

Her who coos at their antics


In my mind is me

As I wish it to be

Her who sees through my eyes

Her who moves the same as me

Her who is exactly who I dream to be

Her who is me.


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