Lost begets found
As ounce begets pound
And sin begets pardon
When the heart is willing.
Nevertheless,
Some things are best
Lost and then buried,
Abandoned, uncarried.
We may lose and unfind,
Untwine what is twined;
To forget may be a gift
If the heart is able.
Mother Hen
feature photo: Shutterstock
(Writing Prompt: FOUND, part of Poetry 101 Rehab by Mara Eastern – Thanks, Mara! Feel free to jump on her poetry wagon each Monday!)
© motherhendiaries 2015, all rights reserved.
In addition to the stepladder providing visible motion, I like the balance of choice that offsets implications of fate or destiny. That’s nice!
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Thank you, Liz. It doesn’t render as well on my phone, but on laptop the visual works. I’m pleased you noticed! ☺☺
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Lovely.
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Thank you, my poetry guru! I am pleased you like it. Getting caught up in the “can’t move on” cycle is agony – and pretty painful to watch as well.
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