Saturday, May 25, 2024

Too much at peace Nov. 8, 2012

 


This river runs

Too rapidly

For me

Although I envy her

Her peace

The lull

In the madness,

Which comes

Always at

A very high price 

I ache to be

Where she has

Laid anchor

Those soft

And muddy

Eddies

Where the water

Spins so slowly,

And sings song

That lull you

To sleep,

Though I know

She is not meant

For such places,

She is an adventurous

Sailor with a noble

Destination

Her vision

Always

Cast ahead

To the uncharted

Places,

At peace

In this eddy

She is like a prisoner

In a jail cell,

Holding her breath

Until someone

Unlocks the door

And she can leap

Back out

To take her chances

Even with the sharks

That swim this far

Upstream,

Hating her inactivity

Rather than

The pointless

Existence where

The hum of mosquito

Serves as

The siren’s song.

 



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