I was thinking of my upcoming publication of Liminal Lights when I wrote this...
Whisper to me of fun and games and thrills
And chills that take you away, far into the night
Where the magic drifts through the wood
And over the hills, between the trees and finds
Us there with hope and fear and laughter and love
Of the world all around, beneath and above.
Whisper to me of all that you've seen and been
And want and need from life and its cohorts
Who dance in the rain, in the dark, hidden in mist
And concealed under cover of sunlight and smiles
Upon faces that twist and contort with the pleasure
Of human awareness taken in measure.
Whisper to me so that I might hear and not fear
This life all around me, surround me, don't drown me
In knowledge and wisdom that I won't acknowledge
As it reaches beyond me, stretches and leans
To weave new patterns, and dreams and visions
I can't explain because my world is illusions.
I like this one too. I've heard it explained before, and the example perked my interest as a Plumber. Sometimes you open the tap and dirty water comes out, and you leave the tap open until clean water comes. I think writing is like that. Sometimes the clean water flows when you least expect it.If it doesn't, its OK, because you have to get the dirty water out before the clean water can flow.ReplyDelete
Right - long running dirty water may eventually lead to good poetry... Got it. I'll keep letting the tap run, then.Delete