A Waiting in the Seaside Mist

Some days it feels like the river stones

Are bare and exposed like dry bones

Other days the rushing river flows

And the world is regaled by the melody it soughs


Waters pour across the horizons

Meeting my gaze and my dry tongue

When I remain parched, I curse the sun

The river is faithful, though, and the curse is undone


Who was I to shake my damning fist

Life does not flow to a man’s tryst

Reminders are found in seaside mist

So I count it a blessing to be flush and sun-kissed


This life is not mine to overthrow

I learn everything I don’t know

Wisdom revealed in time apropos

By means and manners the world has the choice to bestow


Photo by Benjamin Suter on Unsplash

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Kailee Vander Maten's Music Education Blog

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." -Victor Hugo

Just English

A little bit of this, a little bit of that


- Verse Seventeen -



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