Poetry is very unpredictable.
Sometimes it sneaks upon you when you’re thinking of a million things, persistently piercing through a cloud of thoughts until you can’t think of anything else but it.
Other times it is slow to come – despite your open arms, it lingers on the threshold of thought, waiting until you have nearly given up on it ever arriving.
Sometimes it comes quickly, eager and clear and in a moment you have it captured on a page.
Other times it comes from a place you didn’t know existed until that moment, and suddenly you have words on a page that you aren’t sure even you understand, despite you having penned them.
Sometimes it sings, other times it whispers.
Sometimes it refuses to speak at all, and you’re forced to create a poem from its silence.
Sometimes it’s all of those things combined – the rushing and the waiting, the song and the silence, the eager hesitation of words you didn’t know existed but yet somehow have been found deep inside your soul.
This is one of those poems:
can you hear the wonder of the world?
wrapped in a song of sunlight and shadows –
eons of suns and moons harmonize with
the stars that blaze briefly before
surrendering to the weight of time,
their fading mirrored in a silent sky.
can you see the wonder of the world?
wishing for warmth while embracing the
creeping shadows of cold and ice
borne deep in the womb of eternity,
and there – a sea of salted tears
runs swiftly, hand in hand with the stormy sky.
lean close –
can you feel the wonder of this world?
drawing thin and near in the corners of space
the brightness of galaxies reach with tremulous hands
to brush the sleeping earth with starry fingers;
mingling like a kiss with the rush of rivers
and the stillness of many mountains.
be still for a moment –
listen with eager ears,
look with yearning eyes,
lean close to touch with gentle hands…
the wonder of this world is near.
Where do you see the wonder of the world drawing close to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!