Bubbles
written by: Hemmingplay
@hemmingplay
Blowing bubbles…
Pretty bubbles in the air,
They fly so high,
Nearly kiss the sky,
Then like our dreams,
They fade and die.
But what does the bubble think?
Children know these things.
Don’t try to hold on to me, it says.
To capture is to destroy.
Beware of filling me with more than I can hold.
Take me as I am, do not grieve,
I am with you for an instant only,
A glimpsed, mysterious passing thing,
A taste of the lightness of being.
For as I am, so you may be.
A while so blind, but then so free.
Latest posts by Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay) (see all)
- Epilogue - May 2, 2020
- A Morning - April 10, 2020
- Giving Back, Reluctantly - March 20, 2020