When you tune
Out the noise
Of life when
You stop listening
Even to yourself
And wander into
A forest you
Will hear the
Cackling and calling
Of birds one
To the other
While unseen you
Know they’re there
Just like angels
Singing the sweet
Melodies of heaven
One day I
Will meet a
Guy that rather
Than tires of
My poetry sings
It’s praises to
Me until then
I’ll hum these
Words to myself
And once again
It’s my turn
I’ve been up
To bat before
Either stepped out
Of the box
Swung and missed
Or got beaned
Today I grab
My bat confidently
Knowing that inside
Me is a
Home run if
Only I could
Meet a baseball
That understands me
In life it
Is not our
Successes that matter
What matters however
Are our failures
Enjoy as many
As you can
Failures are like
Slippery mossy stones
On which you
Step to cross
A creek you
Need them to
Get from here
To over there
But there’s always
The danger of
Slipping getting wet
Failures are the
Funny memories that
We laugh about
While basking in
The warmth of
Our brief successes
I feel like
A prairie flower
One of many
Different only in
Color I wonder
Why no bees
Buzz by me
Tickling my petals
With long legs
Enjoying my nectar
Or why no
Child has seen
Smiled and snatched
Me up to
Be their own
But here I
Remain lovely in
A sea of
Loveliness content knowing
That I’m the
Best flower that
I can be
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 