Writing down interior feelings,
giving them a voice to speak and orate
until time has passed and left them on pages of a poetical book.
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Searching, finding, locating whatever comes into view.
Living in strength of character, portraying a myriad of images into tomorrow’s horizon.
Calculating essences of energy, finding mathematically that life is filled with formulas, even one for death’s embrace at the end.
Taking whatever they can in the event they may be able to spread cheer throughout the land.Selecting phases, caricatures of nature, and beautiful landscapes of paradise on the way through life’s pathways.
Intense peace filling my mind as I write, taking in stride, everything I see before me.
Keeping me on edges of consciousness, aware of only what is going on within me.Taking solace, practicing bereavement through all hours of the day, hoping to somehow reach an agreement with myself.It can’t be done however hard I try.Silent, parched, finding no where to lay my head when I am tired of this world and…