This poem was inspired by Tony Hoaglan's poem, A Color of the Sky. My favorite part of his ..."so Nature's wastefulness seems quietly obscene. It's been doing that all week: making beauty, and throwing it away, and making more." I'm moved to tears every time I read mine, knowing it was inspired by his.
What is MORE, really? Is it a God given right? Or the work of the devil (if there was such a thing)?
I believe it's Life. The blood that courses through our veins, the breath that fills us up, the heart of everything. Without it, nothing would be possible. With it, a never-ending feast of potential.