Volcano

Those two streams of lava
have become solid and silent now -

ever reminding me
of those painfully sweet sleepless nights
of incessant creativity.

The volcano is silent now,
not dead
(it should not be dead:
for 'miles to go
before I sleep.')

Will ever that time come
when a head will run
ahead of a stomach!

Who knows
when again
this volcano of creativity
will abruptly erupt
and some more new streams
will start flowing!

Muse, let thine will,
not mine be done!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace