I Promise

Promises made

in haste,

for the desire

to raise hopes,

and elevate myself

above the rest,

come back

again and again.

 

Insidious moles,

that tunnel through

the back country,

rendering the land,

porous,

unsafe,

full of holes.

 

Afraid,

that what I offer,

is not enough,

so,

promises are made,

and broken.

 

But now I can see,

before I speak,

and stop.

 

Singing:

patience,

patience.

You are enough.

You are enough.

 

I promise.

DSC_0213Photo: Leigh Pumilia

 

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