A new breeze beckons this passive mind from slumber. What a spell this sleeping life was under, as it played the role we all extol: our stoic sentinel, a person wearing well the expectations of liars’ gazes, the manipulations of those whom life rages into some sort of meaning. Those whom people believe without much dreaming. What I’m gleaming now is a new energy: how to pursue a new part of me: that kooky side that doesn’t hide inside from pride anymore. That bit that life tore. No longer always adjusting, now just robusting this call and choice and honest voice. See this is where the poem ends, but it continues to mend long after the words stop rhyming. Call it divine timing, I call it mining self from what life’s made of it. No more need to fit, just be. And like the breeze just wait and see.
Jan 11 #Poem from #Prompts: New Breeze
A new breeze beckons this #passive mind from slumber.
What a spell this sleeping life was under...
#vss365 #kooky
#emoetry
#2wordprompt #pursue #energy
#foxprose #ourstoicsentinel
#firewords280 #alwaysadjusting
#poetry #poet #writesky #writingcommunity
