The Wait

I read of poets past
with infinite belief
moments come upon us,
often urging we repeat:

Confusion
Regrets
Joys
Happenings,

lessons learned from life,
retold by she, him and them,

possibly, even me.

Asked to compose again,
so that maybe this time
experience will prove, we feel.

If,
probably,
what occurs,
this time,
just isn’t chance
but a path, prepared,
for us.

May I?

May I…?

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I have a few words left inside of me, if you listen intently you’ll hear them pleading, “Audrey, write us as poetry.”

Forever the shy one with something to say, yet I return no longer hidden. I humbly ask for grace as I allow my soul the opportunity to speak again.

I┬ámiss you. I apologize for being away. My life has changed, but I’m still me. Just now gaining strength and peeking through… My poetry will continue.

Love Always,
Audrey Dawn