DHAMMA MANDA
Dried creek beds
Longing for their tears
Something amongst the fallen leaves
of dust covered hopes and floors
Traited trunks stand witness
Still in their helplessness
Showered in light and love
The peddle-stood savior says it best
When the gates open again
If will not be told of now and then
Silted soils will be quenched
From the fallen drops of past mistakes
Slid down the hopeful cheeks
of a Nature of Mother’s men
More at : Roots Poetry
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brendenpettingill
My name is Brenden. I'm a yogi, a writer and nomad. Since the day I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis at age 18 my whole life changed. It was a blessing in disguise, and since then, I have spent much of my time studying and learning about health and wellness, so that sickness never prevents me from doing the things I love to do. I live and love to travel, write poetry, read and teach. I'm a sailor, surfer and adventurer that hopes to share my experiences and knowledge so that you can also live a life free of illness. Free to do the things you love today so you aren't stuck waiting for tomorrow. Website: http://brendenpettingill.com/
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