There is something more to me
I feel it just under the surface
Simmering
Churning
It shimmers for a moment
Sparkling
Glistening
I reach for it and
It fades out of focus
Slipping through my fingers
Laughing
I try something new
It looks like it could be
It rises
Then falls
I try on new dreams
Old dreams
Someone else’s dreams
They all seem half right
Half wrong
It is choppy
And ragged
Dizzily spinning
Missing pieces
Lacking substance
A promise
A thread
A feeling
What is it?
Perhaps nothing
Or everything
5 comments:
I shall try my hand at a poem and place it on my blog. I'll let you know when it is there. However, I much love what you wrote. You are, we are, works in progress. Lovely.
Wow, Dee! I'm having a hard time allowing myself to be as vulnerable as reading this poem makes me right now. I'll just say, it's uncanny how you've encompassed what I was just talking to Ken about this weekend; your version is just much more poetic!!!
I recognize my daughter's creative writing style. It is as sweet to my eyes and mind as your piano practice was to my ears and soul.
Ba Humbug!
There is no part of you missing. Quit chasing dreams and buck up an be a good Calvinist...pray - do, pray - do.
Ha Ha! You're so funny, Dad! :-)
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