Rested
Sun.
A weight of it - of the specific measure, no one cares.
Absorb like leaves, all opened up.
Sun on me like the nectar-dusted legs of a bee.
Laughing, just because -
Flowers at work: we should be this: simply to exist is to fulfil.
Ah, but the floors need sweeping, they are horrid.
But we can push the windows wide, and if we feel nice - work is not work at all.
Sun on me like the nectar-dusted legs of a bee.
Laughing, just because -
Flowers at work: we should be this: simply to exist is to fulfil.
Ah, but the floors need sweeping, they are horrid.
But we can push the windows wide, and if we feel nice - work is not work at all.
Comments
What a beautiful line, Lisa!!
How rare and beautiful it is to just exist...
Another lovely post!