Hints Of Doubts

There are days

Which my soul shouts

In riddles

I do not understand.

And yet

It sounds

Oh so familiar

To me.

Like a word

Upon the tip

Of my tongue

I cannot recall

But know.

Driving me

Nuts

Until the mystery is solved

One way or another.

Am I

Insane to think

I am sane?

When

I do not understand

Even my soul

As it speaks

To me.

Reviews

[Emily B]

quiet all the shrill voices, focus inward, listen to the One

[therisa]

Tank you, Emily, for gracing me, with your words of wisdom. This can be the toughest step, to take.

[TL Boehm]

the soul wants what it wants. Sometimes I don't understand my soul and sometimes I ache because I DO understand. This is an eloquent write, Therisa.

[therisa]

Thank you, Tammy, for your very generous words, for this poem.