Tuesday, 3 November 2015

And so it is.

  ( I try to avoid rhyme in my poems, but with this little one, made the effort. I do not understand either, why some poets resort to using  rhyming dictionary's online or in  book form, I believe a poem should come from the mind and heart of the of the poet,  so I choose not to use them.)

There are days of gladness
swimming alongside grains of sadness,
living attentively, passing time with no regret
following things beautiful, among earth's scent,
allows me moments to release poems bright
tales, sometimes whispering with disquiet,
as the world contains me, I try to protect delicate skin
the pulse and echo weaving among humanity's din.
 Following endless rivers of transformation                              
carried under the moon and sun,
the unquenchable thirst of longing
this voice, so far never conforming, 
falling apart sometimes, but somehow clinging on
in this world of constant transition, 
my messages escape to spread freedoms mission
release the presence of communication,
allow me to surrender wild imagination
until that fateful day, when wings rip, 
and I will fall upon a landing strip
as death calls and takes me far away
in departure to sail on horizons distant fray.

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