Once open to grief, it no longer serves a purpose,
I'm numb to the dwindling words uttered by the source of stagnance,
for the dry desert yearns yet is undying with or without rain,
post depression is innate, yet is felt through the ecosphere,
I submerge from my swampy mind and cast life anew,
for in the state of vulnerability, welcomes all that is possibile
with great meditative contemplation; comes longing transformation
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Author:
Zapatron (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 7th, 2019 06:50
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments2
A fine write River. You done that meditation standing on your head, as in your pic?! heehee.
Haha thanks Orch, I'm contemplating being downside up one day
I suppose we can't for ever stay in 'swamps' or be 'bogged down' by grief. Some folk may extend it, and 'play on it' for the sympathy vote - the complexities of human nature....now, I'm no psychologist or psychiatrist. Long words there! lol
Should you be 'emerging' from your swampy mind - not 'submerging' from it?'
Well put, being submerged implies that one is still partially tied to that of which, one has surfaced from.
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