The sky is bluer than it ought to be.
Though February, the sun shines brightly.
The air is fresh and spring-like, but no wind.
I walk, clearing my mind as autos pass.
The call has gone out early this new year,
the yearning to go beyond the mundane—
my life I somehow unwittingly made.
The sky is bluer than it ought to be.
I deal with my stuff and the world still spins.
Each day the sun rises and life goes on.
I feel dull, alone, insignificant.Though February, the sun shines brightly.
I’m grateful I don’t have major problems.
I drift along on an untroubled sea,
no turbulent stressors rocking my boat.
The air is fresh and spring-like, but no wind.
I must learn to have patience with doldrums,
keeping steady, knowing wind will pick up,
when I’ll sail along adventurously.
I walk, clearing my mind as autos pass.
1 comment:
Journeys
and adventures
sometimes cease us
unexpectedly.
I feel a sense of calm reading your poem.
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