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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

I feel this great compulsion
to create or to write,
as if some, unseen force,
drives me towards a goal
that exists only in my mind.

This comprehension of an
invisible being, inside me,
clawing to get out,
forcing me to write,
when, by rights,
I should be working.

The body is willing
but my mind has no direction,
unable to concentrate,
on one, pure thought.

The sunlight
spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.

Your avatar
Loy • 07/18/2019 at 01:39PM • Like

Beautiful poem

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