What We May See

by Brianna G. Harte

May it be

that we may fly

o’er hills scattered ‘round.

May we see

that harsher winds

could crash our way.

’Tis a balance

before us

Of what could be,

well or poor,

So we must gaze

at what lies before

with its shadows and its sun.

How we may live

forgetting not the tides

rolling in, upon the shore,

retreating from our feet

or reaching them ever more.

Copyright © 2016 Brianna G Harte. All rights reserved.

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