Each dawn she walks the garden path,
A silent, slow, and steady wont.
Not forced, not bound by any math,
But deep in rhythm, soul and thought.
She wants the blooms, the dew, the light,
And won’t be rushed by modern haste.
Yet still she comes, each morning right—
This quiet ritual, long embraced.
Her wont is peace, her heart’s true song,
A gentle pull, where she belongs. 🌿
This blog contains simple, thought provoking and deeply reflective poetry written by American poet, Doris Trueheart. Here is a large expanse of her poems covering a myriad of topics reflecting her heart.
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