My Own Way
Along this season’s mid quarter-time,
I find myself wandering between
The raw of night’s wanton pleasure
And the sacredness from morn awakened:
Late evenings replay a dancing fire
when each hour blazes thrilled adventures
daring the self to run with passion: jazz music
gyrating through city lanes, sauvignon kisses
from love’s rendezvous, the late communion
with this artist's brush—an expressionistic glow!
Yet, as dawn arrives, I turn to my inner home,
One that cradles incense of prayers and reflections ,
Allowing breaths to inhale the pain and beauty
Of loved ones now beyond my physical reach…
Then to bask in serenity where my Capricorn air
Meets the dew of grasses whistling in my yard.
I am stilled… Perhaps, I am getting old enough
To scrape my pen amidst a bundle of journals,
Unearthed by many passages still to come. And go.
The Poet's Own for Greg Barden's Contest
8/29/2017
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2017
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