The Silver Lake

I think I lost something along the way.

A sliver of hope, a dash of faith.

A dream once carried, now lost in the haze.

It sank deep into the silver lake,

and got buried underneath layers of clay.

A cold night in december when the frost first carved its mark. 

I am not the young girl I used to be.

Travelling southwards, in search of the sea.

But what is lost can be regained.

Flowers wilt and grow once again.

Where there was weakness, strength is born.

Life comes back, but in a new form.

Like seasons turning, I am born anew.

Torn but not broken, embracing the storm.

By Jonna Kihlman

From: Sweden

Website: https://www.poemsbyjonna.com

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