Chisel not my name
onto elegant stone,
so you that I love
might become slave
to a time and place
that no longer holds
my soul, to which you
could become tied,
lost in sorrow and
life’s limitations.
Rather, joyfully cast
my dust to the wind, so
I may dance on the breeze,
and one day as the leaves
rustle gently overhead,
you will feel me there,
riding a ray of sunshine
kissing your face, and
I’ll whisper in your ear,
“Remember to live free.”
Message in a Bottle © Susan L Hart
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Susan L Hart 2022 / HartInspirations.com

God is eternal goodness. This poem shows it.
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Thanks, Anonymous. 🙂
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