Even as seeds have already come true, maybe there are more to dreams than what is only found at the bloom. And it is far more than just anticipation. It is the ongoing locomotion from the root. Sings the poem without the words. In that way, hope moves along, ever present on its way as moment to moment goes on beyond any aberration of rhythm to the last stop, and back again, ourselves as we are, an undeniable presence, beyond a poem’s last word penned, but written within along, underneath.

Published by Other People's Flowers, 2019

Written by Joe Bisicchia on 31/03/19
© 2019 Joe Bisicchia

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Hope, words, Dreams, people, flowers

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