Like watching the grass grow
All things come to those who wait
When touching tomorrow
It’s stealing from God’s hand

The thoughts may backslide
Future obscured by overcast
Sun showed the bright side
Surrendering to the past

The words may cut glass
The wishes fell underground
Though this too shall pass
First lost and then it’s found

Walking on air
Getting a second wind
Forging ahead
Through thick and thin

Blossoming out of spring

In the right place
At the right time
Moving on
And flying high

Alexandra Puškárová

About Alexandra Puškárová

'Every poem has a story to tell'

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