In the midst of a treasure
Paint my eyes with gold so I might see
The beauty that lives in spite of me
A lens I lack, taking hold
Wonder will not escape this vision
For eyes of gold will witness
The majesty across the pond
The glistening of metallic rays
Floating above a bed of raindrops
that fell so graciously after they landed
There, a song is sung
Where the tears of the sky leave their print
A high rock in place as a stage
A chasm for the melody to ring
A bed of rain to carry the tune
A dancing forest underneath the heavens
Nothing rings like the wild
Writing this with no edits, stream of consciousness.... "I wonder what I'm thinking about," Says the author.
- Author: Leya Virago (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 28th, 2020 00:07
- Comment from author about the poem: I am trying these entries where I just write and write as my brain continues to think things. I am not always sure where it's going and it often feels like Mr. Toads wild ride. Sometimes I feel I need to strap myself in before approaching this daunting exercise of the mind. At the end though, there is relief. From the rush of releasing all that was made up, into the physical universe. It is a pleasure to exercise the freedom of thought. May it never be shaken from any man/woman.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Andrew Charles Forrest
Comments1
Loving this FREE concept of writing I get so obsessed with what ends up on the page
How did that feel now it's out there
BRAVO well done I like it
I may even give it a go
THANK YOU!!!
Thank you very much ACF! I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. Wishing you all the best on your stream of consciousness journey!
You are always welcome.
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