Here now this morn
each morn reborn an urge arises
to pen some words on God’s bliss hum
our prayer is a whisper in the void
yearning to align with the cosmic drum
mind-body vessel drifts through space
within consciousness, a small bubble
gross vibrations from it have departed
all that remains now is a small stubble
bliss magnetism has something to say
benign burn both cajoling and compelling
we are reeled in to the now continuum
where perhaps residual fears need quelling
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.