Puzzle

First real attempt at poetry that people will actually read. I'm not a poet.

Life's puzzle,

blatantly clear, as music

laughed behind the clarity.

To think was measurement, 

painting it's rhythm,

the chords aching,

air drying in the breeze. 

love-he thought,

the waterfall of feelings,

a destitution of instinct,

for the sake of it. 

Love, the last piece to the puzzle,

thinking aloud flowing down, 

and he stood still on the balcony,

transient times fleeting,

God's will opposing him, 

love still and breathless, 

the waterfall had cascaded 

into marvelous nothingness. 

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Excellent read...for someone who is not a poet.