he caught the cloud
that flew too low
turned it around
and sent it out that way
he paused the wind
by holding his hands
before his eyes
then reached out
to turn it aside that way
he bent down low
his eye reflected
in the pond
smoothed each wrinkle
with a hand
that swept away
the fish and he
knew the flow undisturbed
though tempest raged
and that nothing need tremble
when it knew the way
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: January 2nd, 2018 01:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments4
The way is always there ahead of us.
Lead on, GF.
Good write Frank.
Cheers, O.
A well written reflection of inner peace, Frank. Kudos!
Thanks Louis.
Such food for thought in these interesting lines Frank - - I love the two final lines which sum up the depth of your chosen subject.
Thank you Fay. The 'Way' poems adopted their own voice - wise and soothing. I find it interesting that the subject shapes itself in this way. Personally, I feel less wise and less assured.
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