Thursday, January 3

Tender Mercies

When wind spins her ice cold fingers through my hair
I remember that I'm really not alone

And even though my pulsing heart has cooled, 

it hasn't yet turned into bitter stone

Dear Sun, will you rise again tomorrow?

I promise you, tomorrow I'll be good

If only I could feel your rays of sunshine,

then I'd know all will be again as it should 


  1. Beautiful ... may the sun fulfill all your wishes :-)

  2. With creative imaginations, we truly are never alone. Aren't we lucky?


  3. This is good, but quite chilling! (no pun intended) Thinking of the ice cold fingers reminding a person she/he is not alone makes me think of the many people to whom a cold hand or heart is their only contact. Indeed the rays of sunshine (and human warmth) make all the difference in the world, don't they?

  4. oh in truth the sun is ever shining somewhere above the clouds, the delusions that we might not be good... good enough... we are, you are. Beautiful poem.

  5. 'Dear Sun, will you rise again tomorrow?'...oh how I have asked that countless times. Nice capture :-)

  6. I love your title, and the hope that tomorrow will bring sun. It always does:)

  7. I know this feeling! I have many times had to remind myself that things always look better, seem more hopeful, in the morning. Just have to get through the night!