Without Worry
One cool spring morning, I sat in my chair.
It was the only rocking chair on the porch.
There was a warm breeze blowing in the damp air.
I watched as the wind blew harder; a storm.
Lightning seemed to strike the ground as if it were in a hurry.
Whispering, in it’s voice, I could hear laughter.
We were content, without worry.
“ A rose petal blooms as part of a whole” it said.
“ A rose is made of more than one.
When two become one, the whole is fed.”
One cool spring morning I left my chair.
I kissed my wife as she cooked breakfast.
The wind had told me of things that nothing could tear.
We are content, without worry.
Rick Allen Bennett
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