Rooted To Reality

the stars faithful
to its glittering even in the
storm

the sun without failure
shining every morning

the moon afloat on the
river

sailing by the marsh
soundlessly

the creeks that flow
against the pebbles

the grass that spreads
itself upon itself

the clouds that drift
incessantly

the self that lives
despite

the consciousness that thrives
amidst the numbness

of the dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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