Lungs filled with fluid
chain her to the swamp,
drown her dreams
with their primordial
.
pull. But she lifts
her eyes from the
sludge, above the
bottom-feeding frenzy
.
to the world of
terra firma, of
grass and soil
and ambulatory
.
thrivers. Hers
is a hope that
floats to the surface,
waiting for legs.
*
Even tadpoles can dream…
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
WOW I LIKE this one, and I’m surprised–tadpoles and swamps don’t usually do it for me!
Nor me – but my thoughts took me a new direction, and I found ssmething new to express the hope growing inside…
Wherever, whenever, however hope grows–we’ll take it, eh?!!
Absolutely! I can’t afford to be picky… 😉
Ignore the typos… 😦
I like that we’re getting more relaxed about them–it shows a quirky kind of progress for me!
Waiting for legs; don’t we all do that on some days!
Life sometimes forces us to wait – maybe at those times faith gives us legs as well as wings! 🙂
yes, wings come in handy too.