waiting to die

alone again

with

the muse

not writing waiting

for words

like a puddle 

for more rain

like a yogi

for his next breath

like the bored sky

for clouds

like me, an old man

waiting to die.

the whipping wind looking

for trees to play with

waters to dance on

hair to tussle

like me, waiting for the light 

to turn green

waiting for the snow to melt.

when enough raindrops congregate

they make tiny little rivulets

to drain to

the sea.

the muse likes

empty minds best

the clock turns 

for the sun

children grow old and die.

Reviews

[Michael of Gilead]

Well I know I can relate, sometimes it seems the words will never come and when they do, mostly my mind is very empty...and theres no paper around ;)

[Alicante lullaby]

your words havea life of their own..you just thread them together...pretty.

[Vincent Esprit FMI]

Paul these are the poetic pieces that are real and true ...this one is beyound me...every now and then I encounter poems like these. This is an excellent piece....I have not found any yet on the "falling leaf" in your section..he he!

regards,
vincent
www.esprit.aegauthorblogs.com

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

There are so many simple day to day moments you capture in your poems to weave into something so refreshing and beautiful as your poems that it is amazing..
There is so much to like here..'bored sky for clouds','when enough raindrops congregate they make tiny little rivulets'...'the muse likes empty mind best' and course the last line.
There is one line i have a doubt with..is it and old man or an old man?..
As always beautiful.

[...]

. waiting for the sun ... like Jim M ... waiting for the congregation of sundrops ... to make a ray ... waiting for that tiniest ... little reason ... to feel okay about being alive ... well, find it ... when will all the detective stories you read or saw on celluloid come in handy? ... you hardly have any time to "deploy" what you know ... am actively encouraging you to conspire ... :) ...

[Ed Hart]

growing old and dying are the givens; meanwhile "it is Margaret you mourn for" (Hopkins)

[Emily B]

have you ever noticed we always seem to be waiting . . . for a better day, for a handful of words, for the end of a span of years?