Searching

sylviasearcher



 

What is it that you seek?
It's like a puzzle that makes me meak
Your judging ears. Your wide vigilant eyes.
Open, gaping mouth. Grinning. Wide.

What exactly do you need?
Would I give it freely your soul to feed
Your busy restlessness buzzing every way
Whirring and stirring and causing affray

Why do you run in circles each day?
Inside of out and back on your way
Your silent ears. Your darkened eyes
Open mouth. Muted. What is your prize?

What is it that you seek?
It's a chink in my armour and it's making me weak
Eyes tight shut and drowning in birdsong
Your lips count the minutes but your timing is all wrong.

Searching for a moment's peace
Where nothingness is out of reach
Your mind is full of empty and body has been spent
You fly straight off the jagged edge, and wonder where you went.

 

  • Author: sylviasearcher (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 1st, 2019 08:15
  • Comment from author about the poem: Back to basics?
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 29
  • Users favorite of this poem: siranswerer
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments4

  • Neville

    tis where it all began...

    should you ever find what it is you are looking for, drop me a line

    • sylviasearcher

      There's nothing to find.

      That's the point.

      Thanks for the read.

    • Michael Edwards

      In empty spaces
      Searching for the great unfound
      nothing to declare.

      A fine write Sylvia.

      • sylviasearcher

        Precisely!

        Thanks for reading and your kind comment 😌

      • orchidee

        I had a similar quote (heehee).'If we don't know what we're looking for, how will we know when we've found it?' Doh!

      • dusk arising

        Trying to fall into meditation i am "searching for a moment's peace where nothingness is out of reach" and failing once again.
        So much of todays frustrating life is here in your words, the mental baggage upon our shoulders. Oh to be a ploughman.

        • sylviasearcher

          Thanks dusk, what a poignant comment.
          🌟



        To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.