My senses wonder how to find peace
among company not familiar
with the lightest touch.
My senses wonder how to find peace among company not familiar with the lightest touch. Even though I have written down everything of which I dream. My words are not heralded by the new age the same because a pebble means more to them than a beautiful sunset's beams.
The youngest seem to rise inside the walls with no names, disguised as sparkling diamonds known as hope. I must beware of their winds as they can overwhelm the very air I cradle and for which I fight. Or, I may find my Heaven has become absent and that I have given up everything I know to be right.
I could look straight through the glass and hear the strangest voices ever from my reality. And, I would want to know what lies at the bottom, posing as flowers for my hair. Still, I find there are wrinkles in my climate painted on the panes of life, numbed by “I don't care”.
If I tried to escape or perhaps fight for what I believe, would I be considered shallow? Could I still feel the appeal of peace or would I want to cover my heart in sleep? So, I watch the schemes of those not familiar with the lightest touch then watch them drink the wine of what they reap.
You may be expressing the changes you see and feel in life but I must first state that your evocative writing is constant as the dawn each day. I have written on these WC pages many times that you are one of the finest writers here. Neva, I think I understand everything you are expressing here. While in the transition of the past year, I have said I don’t care countless times and finally just felt like I may be in danger of giving up. After unpublishing over a hundred pieces and then writing another hundred poems that were never published here I said to myself again… "I don't care" “Understand this moment has come to just write what you feel… don’t ever let anyone say what you feel is wrong”…
This just has so many different emotions flying through me right now. I see this void in so many and I guess even in myself with the way life is for us now. That void and that "I don't care".. feels more like a cry out then a hand in the face. So painful. Your words bring all of it to the light of day for us.. xoxo
''Still, I find there are wrinkles in my climate
painted on the panes of life,
numbed by “I don't care”.'' Oh my Neva, for me these words feel of dilema, the kind that sits awkward...the kind I usually have to find courage for........beautiful emotive poetry that delves deeper than we care to go.
good writing here there's fire in these words sounds like someone looking to belong or be somewhere i like drink the wine of what they reap.as always keep writing fellow writer
Hello, I am Neva, 4i, from Atlanta, Georgia.
My latest book and videos:
My latest book - Mailing Letters to the Moon
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