The Forest of the Abandoned

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Deep in the forest of the abandoned there is a small light,

very small, a signal really, that it’s time for snow melting

transforming  into a stream, and then a river, molding

itself into a surge, growing in strength into a relentless rescue.

Covering, cleansing the ones left for dead, washing them,

until even their screams are erased, and

they can believe in their circulation

once again.

         

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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