
Between my fingers, I slowly twirl
the way I’ve done before,
white petals like the pinwheel
that may in turn propel my heart
and set in motion in the universe
the dreams I’ve protectively harbored,
but now I realize, those dreams have been
all granted by the stars,
so the only thing that fades
in the mist of heaven’s clouds
is my grip on hope
for I can release the hold
now that I have been delivered
to your arms.
Beautiful poem, Laura, especially the ending. 💓
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