Idle Musings
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Unseeking Seeker.

The urge to create,
to soul is innate,
for even whilst still,
we employ our will.
Form apparatus
limits and rates us,
confined to senses;
thinks in past tenses.
When our starting point
does not bliss anoint,
we flounder about,
enmeshed in deep doubt.
Our nonchalant eye
doth each urge decry,
clinging to nothing,
save peace bliss does bring.
When ‘I’ is rested,
our ego's bested,
whereupon each breath,
is love's healing meth.
Emptiness the way
to joy night and day,
knowing life by touch,
sans ego thought crutch.
Whilst within this dream,
where thought patterns stream,
if our heart's love inked,
God and soul are linked.
14-October-2022
Copyright © Unseeking Seeker | Year Posted 2022
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