It was not gold that turned tears to riches
but the tears that became gold

Weeping trees kiss the ground
bowing before sun and wind in a prayer

Skies rise and set within our endless
revolutions as we orbit our own sun

While Freya’s tears cast beauty
blossoming into the kiss of sweet flowers

We chase all the riches, oblivious
to our boundless view

Until we at last learn the limitless
that has waited amongst the stars ~ Caroline A. Slee

All the Riches

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