For JusJoJan day 4. This poem is called a Miniature, and I first heard about it from Abigail Gronway. Click the link to find out the features of this poetic form.
There is much that hidden is,
Riddled with questions,
Enigmatic mystery
Blocks out many suns
Leaving soul in darkest night
Looking for the meaning,
Grasping illumination
Slowly, slowly gleaning :
As confusion reigns supreme,
Hope holds close its precious dream.
“As confusion reigns supreme,
Hope holds close its precious dream.”
Wow! How beautifully penned. These words welled up and swirled within me, striking the strings of my own hope. And not only the last two lines, but the entire poem. This is beautiful, Jenna.
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Thank you so much!
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