I don’t wait for a turn to speak
when I listen
you wonder what I see;
not merely a reflection of myself
in your golden iris,
but deeper still,
somewhere beyond
the spaces between words.
It unfolds ever so slowly,
sweetly, delicately;
trust takes its time.
Unwinding like the ribbon of
a river trickling from
its mountain source,
amassing momentum
on its quiet journey.
I give it my deep attention
somewhere inside
where the true self resides.
The one we can never know or express,
the one that’s silently at rest,
perceiving pore by pore
& always gently wanting more.
So much we cannot articulate in mere words.
Read my tangled thoughts,
try to find my mind
in words I’ve underlined;
build them into a prayer
to more than subtle devotion.
Because to care
is just to care
without any expectation;
you are not mine to own
or to be tamed,
but my freedom has become yours
to know
-
Author:
rebmasters (
Offline) - Published: September 6th, 2021 03:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 62
- User favorite of this poem: HannahElisabeth.
Offline)
Comments3
Lovely words ... again 🙂 you express yourself really well .
Thank you ❤️
It's funny - I style myself as a 'writer' & I've spent a long old time studying the insane English language, but I actually think I'm terrible at expressing myself, especially in conversation! But thank you for saying so x
To care without expectation is something very rare. Nice words . A good read
Indeed! Perhaps the ultimate in love. My muse doesn't think it can be done, but we shall see...
Thank you for your kind words ❤️
'but deeper still, somewhere beyond
the spaces between words.
It unfolds ever so slowly,
sweetly, delicately;
trust takes its time.
Unwinding
like the ribbon of a river
trickling from its mountain source
amassing momentum on its quiet journey.
I give it my deep attention'..
(ahhhh, true Poet
I for one, do care
for poetry that so warmly nourishes
my poetic needs
and so I thank you, sincerely
for choosing to share)
'wise words, are the hardest to comprehend
because they're the simplest, to be heard
and yet, like all things acquired simply
in our plug-and-play, ease of a warped - modernity
we squander them: far - far, too easily'
Ah thank you my friend ❤️
& to quote Simone Weil again (she is too good not to steal from):
'The poet produces the beautiful by fixing their attention on something real'
& for all my struggles to express myself, that, I suppose, is what I'm trying to do x
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