Perfect Just because the stars in the city are weak and few doesn't mean you should regret what still remains, nor that you should cease to gaze at them in wonder. Fool is the farmer who curses a shower when his fields need a downpour. Fool is the sailor who curses a breeze when his sails need a guster. Even when things aren't perfect, they are still perfect. * * * Through Chaos Thrown to the winds a thistledown seed, to be helplessly blown is his only need. Isn't it funny, the pivotal things, like birthing and dying, through chaos life brings. * * * noise on tv, lawnmowers roar-- but birds still sing
I remember haikus. They're fun. I liked your second more than the first, but that's only 'cause I'm kind of a stickler for meter.
Wow, I didn't even realize that! I was just posting a few poems, didn't want to make seperate threads. But yeah, they do have some commonality... Good observation. And thank you all for the comments.
