Getting Lost Close By
I write this at night
moving past
paths of
memories
and with a quiet curious voice
and the sky shinning with stars
astonishing wonders trail and shoot
and from the meadows and in a low whisper
I ask,
Why did you bring me here?
Solitude surrounds me
its sound
between a yes and a no ignite
and as I listen to the moment arriving
and the world of things
and words that fit
as if
nothing else exists
beyond a gaze
this moment.
Copyright © James Ranahan | Year Posted 2015
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