Saturday, April 27, 2019

The Poet's Light

Things are different for me. Oh, I don't know a sonnet from a haiku, and I wouldn't know chanso if she picked me up for an Uber trip. I suppose I'm a poet, though. Shorthand for shiftless in some circles.

When I stood on the banks of that creek in Piedmont Park, and I saw all of the circles that made up my world, I knew as much as I was ever gonna know. As I sit here hunched over this keyboard, sharing my small treasures with you, I see that I'm the center of all of them. You are, too. No matter where you go.

Be still. Do you hear it? The frequency is love.


No comments:

Post a Comment