I started writing poetry about the fourth week of the pandemic. It has been a journey. As I write more, I uncover new layers of my mind. I also find new ways to interpret things I read. The human mind, it has been said, has fifty thousand thoughts a day, a good deal of it is chaos. In my mind, since I started, some of it is poetry. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a struggle for purpose, or something struggling to get out. Maybe it’s just what I see in the whirlpool. Here are the three latest:
POEM 112 NOW
Yesterday is the graveyard of the past
Tomorrow is future’s gateway
Today we are here
Drink it in
Explore your desires
Connect with your other
Empty your troubles
Suck in the pure air
Float on a cloud
Freedom to expand
Let your thoughts run free
POEM 113 SNOW DAY
Rolling out of bed
Blanket of fresh snow
Quiet, peaceful
Peaceful, serene
Nature’s tranquilizer
Delayed errands
Hot soup
Bread drenched in butter
Chocolate chip cookie
Warm buttered rum
Engaging book
Darkness sneaking in
Back to bed
POEM 114 EACH OTHER
Walking in the forest
We are each other
Soft trail underfoot
Imposing life around us
High, lonely waterfall
Gray mist at its base
Emerald ferns celebrating existence
Time stands still
Without conflict
Eternity is beckoning
We are each other
Pete's Wisdom 