– weathering heights –

In the

sleet of it all, in the

messy, mushy slush, you will

see me stand tall, without

hurry, without rush. In the

thickest of fog, in the

hushed and hazy clouds, you will

hear my sweet song, hear it

clear and hear it loud.


What’s taken over

me, after this winter

storm? What’s swadled around

me, now that I’m re-

born? What’s taken over

me, here ‘pon these new

heights? What’s made this life to

be the sunshine at night?



D.J. Whisenant



2 thoughts on “– weathering heights –

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