You thought I would know what to do.
Without instruction that's impossible.
My intuition doesn't stretch that far.
Why send all these messages but
not what's expected of me. I see,
waiting for my natural inclination
to kick in, my scrupulous disposition
to save the day. Well disciplined these
saints, they just ______ fill in the gap.
If you have not love, what have you
but words and a steel trap for a mind.
Perhaps that's the crux of the problem.
Mind, your mind, ours, this shared
space we call psyche, has fallen
on hard times. I gather there's drought
in Africa. In here too. Can you hear
the wind blow? Next year's top soil
already a haze over the city. Baked
brains, unrelenting thirst, conducive
to clear thinking? Perhaps not. The gift,
always in the love, need only be a token.
A gesture. An unfolding intention. One
person's love's not enough? You think
on the other end of this exchange...
YOU ARE READING
Magpie Pearls
Poetry~ This poetic journey started when I began questioning why I write poetry. The assumption I'd come across pearls of wisdom to impart is quickly challenged by readers of "Magpie Pearls", leading me to explore truth in a broader sense. Is truth univer...
